


under the canyon moon

by yournewflame



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, but it's also just me yelling into the abyss about aster flores, t hank, this IS a love story don't you worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25102276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yournewflame/pseuds/yournewflame
Summary: This is not a love story.This is the story of how Aster Flores let herself become a main character.
Relationships: Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 74
Kudos: 262





	1. Sure of what I've lived and have known

This is not a love story.

* * *

Aster Flores leaves Squahamish three weeks, two days, and five hours after Ellie Chu does. 

Not that Ellie’s the reason she’s counting, of course. Keeping track of the time between a girl who entirely turned her world upside down leaving their hometown and her own, similarly life changing exit would be far too dramatic, even for Aster. 

Not that Aster herself was dramatic. She’d just found herself adjacent to a whole lot of it recently. From Paul interrupting a quiet night in at the diner to pronounce his _like_ for her; to Trig’s public proposal (and subsequent interruption), to Ellie _kissing her in the middle of the street and riding off into the literal sunset_ , Aster had recently found herself a more central character in far more events of public speculation than she had perhaps anticipated for her life. 

Once, maybe, she’d considered being a main character in her own story. But after her seventeenth year playing the dutiful role of ‘deacon’s daughter’, her fourth year as ‘that hot, reading girl’, and her third of ‘Trig’s girlfriend’, she’d more or less relegated herself as a side character in someone else’s narrative. A prop used to gesture at to prove the beauty of someone else’s life, all the while ignoring her own existence outside of them. Even her prayers to God had felt ignored. 

That is, until a beautifully written letter appeared in her locker and Aster found herself wondering if _maybe_ she could have her own story, after all. 

As it turned out, things weren’t quite so clear cut. 

She was once again a side character. Love interest #1 of Paul Munsky (and then, maybe, love interest #2, not that she’d really allowed herself to consider what she’d witnessed by the vending machine after his game.). Love interest #1 in Ellie Chu’s story as well, as it transpired. 

But those letters, for all their damage, came with some good. They changed her. Ellie’s words helped her realise that she could be both a side character in someone else’s story, as well as a main character in her own. She could be the fond memory Paul shares of his first love, the bitter one Trig does. She could be the high school crush left behind as Ellie goes to start her life. 

But they can also be stories in _her_ life. 

So, if she’s counting the exact amount of time since Ellie Chu left town, it’s _not_ because Ellie planted one hell of a kiss on her before she rode away. Fine, _maybe_ that’s partially why, but mostly?

Mostly because it’s the beginning of the rest of her life. It’s the day she realises that she knows for sure what her first bold stroke is going to be. 

So, three weeks, two days, and five hours ago _might_ have been when Ellie Chu- side character, definite potential love interest, fundamental turning point in Aster’s life- leaves town. 

But it’s also when Aster Flores went home from work and started working on her final portfolio pieces, the ones that get her into Minneapolis College of Art and Design, the one that gets her out of other people’s stories and lets her begin her own.

* * *

This is not a love story. 

This is the story of how Aster Flores let herself become a main character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins. Welcome to yet another ramble.
> 
> The Half Of It was a fucking DELIGHT and if you haven't watched it yet then you absolutely should. Alice Wu is a genius, the cast are geniuses, everyone is wonderful excellent thanks.
> 
> But also throughout the whole film I remembered when I was a lost bean much like aster flores, and this is the result.
> 
> it's taken me 299292 years to write this so i'm hoping posting will then force me into finishing it because i'll feel compelled to tick that lil complete box xox (update: it worked)
> 
> Please enjoy this hot fuckin mess of a fic, team.
> 
> Fic title is from Canyon Moon by the Best Boy, Harry Styles
> 
> The chapter title is from Seventeen, by Sharon Van Etten


	2. Touched down on the edge of another world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster steps out of her car, half expecting Trig or her father to jump out at her and tell her this is all an elaborate hoax; a fever dream about the life she’s wanted but never will have. 

College is...different. That’s the best word for it. It’s so much bigger and louder than Squahamish. Even when Aster arrives in the early evening, when most folks back home would be heading inside for dinner, there are people everywhere. Kicking a ball around on the grass, walking with friends, spread out on the lawn and laughing. It’s like every college brochure she’s ever seen- carefree young adults of all backgrounds, having the time of their lives while getting a wholesome education. There’s legitimately someone studying under a tree. It’s borderline overwhelming, actually. Aster steps out of her car, half expecting Trig or her father to jump out at her and tell her this is all an elaborate hoax; a fever dream about the life she’s wanted but never will have. 

But the moment never comes. Instead, a peppy young man with a fashionably messy hairdo approaches her with a clipboard, asking her name and giving her directions to her dorm. He’s probably nice; but Aster doesn’t really notice. She’s too busy taking it in- her new home. 

Orientation is a whole thing. At first, she feels like she’s drifting through it, still unsure she really belongs. But on her third morning in Minneapolis, her roommate- a friendly, if quiet, girl called Kate- bustles in holding a large coffee. Aster takes it, blinking in surprise at the unexpected gesture. 

“There’s an activities fair today. And I don’t know about you, but being around so many new people in a new place has been a _lot_. So I thought maybe we could go together?” She’s smiling at Aster, but her voice wavers with nerves, and Aster knows this is someone feeling just as overwhelmed as she is. And she realises that she might be about to make her first friend at college. Meeting her roomates’ smile, Aster nods, and together they head outside.

Kate, it transpires, has had a similar upbringing to Aster. Born in Chicago, her parents moved her to a small town in Illinois (population 300, a clear victory over Squahmish’s 265) when she was twelve. In a town so small, she commiserates with Aster about instantly standing out. 

“Being the new kid _sucked_ . Everyone knew everything about me right away, and I had no idea about anything. And all those ridiculous hierarchies and histories everyone but you knows when they’ve all gone to school together since preschool? How are you meant to know those rules?” She asks, exasperated even now, years later. Aster nods, remembering the feeling. She shares the story of the matching scarves in her senior year, how even then she hadn’t immediately realised the unspoken rule of ‘ _take this, join us’._ That it was less a gift, more an initiation. 

Kate’s also refreshingly chill, and non-judgmental. She’s happy to lead the conversation and let Aster jump in when necessary, not digging too deep into personal questions if Aster’s not super forthcoming with answers. When she asks if Aster’s dating anyone, for instance, she just raises a curious eyebrow at Aster’s bitter laugh in response, but doesn’t pry. Instead, she pulls out her phone to show Aster a veritable slideshow of her boyfriend, who is at his own college orientation an hour away. It’s nice to just have an easy conversation with someone, to know that Kate doesn’t have any preconceived notions about her and is happy to just let Aster _be._

As they enter the fair, Aster’s stomach clenches at the sight of the Christian group booth, offering information on sunday services. On instinct, she starts heading toward it, but slows up when she realises that she doesn’t _have_ to. Her father isn’t here, the parish isn’t here. She can work out her relationship with God on her own time, she realises; without anyone telling her when or how. 

She turns, tries to make out like she’d been heading to the stall next to the Christian group’s one, wary of Kate just behind her and not wanting to seem weird or indecisive near her new friend. But she falters completely when she realises she’s now standing right in front of the LGBT+ stand, resplendent in flags of all colours and designs. The person manning the stand waves at her and reaches out with a pamphlet, and Aster baulks, wheeling around so quickly she thinks she might have hit someone in her haste to back away. Again, Kate doesn’t respond beyond a quirk of an eyebrow and a diversion of topics - “Do you think they have an acapella group? I loved pitch perfect!”; and Aster lets herself be lead through the fair, stomach slowly uncoiling as she forces herself to take in everything _else_ this college has to offer, leaving the two stalls far behind. 

* * *

When she comes home that Friday, she finds a pamphlet from the LGBT+ stand on her bed, along with a post-it. 

_‘Not sure if you need or want this, but just in case…_

_I wanted you to know that you’ll get no judgment for me, either way._

_I’m catching up with the boyfriend this weekend, don’t wait up ;)_

_xx Kate’_

Aster stomach coils again, but this time it’s with something that feels more like hope than fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Cig, by Baby FuzZ


	3. Looks like I'd get you off my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some nights, the words they share feel like they might have more behind them than a shared love of literature. 
> 
> Aster tucks that thought as far back into the recesses of her mind as she can.

_DiegaRivero: You up?_

Aster sends the text without allowing herself a second thought. She can’t sleep because of the stack of work already piling on her desk, and the one way she knows she’ll get through it is by doing something she’s been pointedly not doing for the last week. Longer, really.

She’s about to rethink her action when the response comes through. It’s somehow both shocking and perfect, and she can’t stop the snort that escapes her.

_SmithCorona: 🌭?_

_DiegaRivero: Oh I’m sorry, I thought I was messaging Ellie. Did you give Paul your phone, heathen?_

The response doesn’t take long. They never did, no matter the hour. 

_SmithCorona: I’ve managed to pick up_ _some emoji meanings recently. ‘The purpose of learning is growth,’ and all that._

_DiegaRivero: I’m not sure emojis is what Adler meant, but point taken. That being said- a sausage, really? College has changed you._

_SmithCorona: My roommate receives enough late night texts almost exactly like the one you just sent for me to have gleaned their meaning, and all appropriate responses. Although in this case I suspect you have something slightly different in mind._

Aster snorts, though she can feel a vague blush at Ellie’s implication. Particularly when the next message comes through.

_SmithCorona: Unless college has changed you, too._

She knows Ellie’s joking; knows enough about the girl from their three whole conversations to know she’s dry in her humour; but it still brings Aster back to their conversation on the street. About changing, things being different. Being _sure_. 

_DiegaRivero: It’s art school, so it’s trying. Though my own roommate sounds like a much better influence than yours! Actually, I need your help._

_SmithCorona: Oh?_

Aster bites her lip nervously. She’s really making a leap of faith, here. Texting someone out of the blue two months after you’ve last spoken to them to ask for help is a risky venture, but she genuinely doesn’t think she has much choice. 

_DiegaRivero: Well. I might be on the completely wrong track here, but I’m desperate. I’m writing an essay for my literature elective on, of all things, The Remains of the Day. I’m literally only a paragraph short of the word count, but I can only stretch things so far...I remember Paul stuttering over nazis on our date though, and I have a suspicion that things might have gotten a bit lost in translation. Any chance you could fill me in on what he was *meant* to say, to see if it’s something I can weave in?_

_DiegaRivero: Sorry, I know this is totally out of the blue. But you’re the only person I know who’s read it, or unpacked it any more than I did._

She waits, teeth worrying her bottom lip, as she watches the typing bubble pop up and disappear again. Then, finally. 

_SmithCorona: Helping someone with essays? My speciality._

Aster rolls her eyes, and is about to respond with a defense about her ability to write her own words, _thank you very much_ , when a follow up appears. 

_SmithCorona:_ _I’m kidding, by the way. I know you’re more than capable of your own work. Send me your email address? I have a suspicion any literature discussions we’re about to have might end up a bit long for text._

And that’s how Aster and Ellie become unexpected study buddies, 200 miles apart. 

* * *

Ellie’s subjects are, unsurprisingly, mostly within the realm of English or Literature; save her single elective of painting.

Aster tries not to think about what it means that Ellie’s elective and her own are perfect mirrors of the other’s key interests. Reading too far into things is dangerous, she knows. It is helpful, however, when they can write each other questions or advice as the semester wears on and the work piles up. 

She and Ellie have no trouble sliding back into that side of their communication; waxing lyrical about poets, authors- any written piece they discover and find interesting enough to share with one another. Aster stays up late into the night some evenings, Kate’s quiet snores a backtrack to the buzz of her phone as she and Ellie debate the topic of the week. Sometimes, it’s a passage of text from one of Ellie’s reading lists, or one from Aster’s elective- others, it’s something they’ve stumbled across in their day to day lives that warrants sharing. 

Some nights, they just send lines of poetry to one another. Aster knows it’s just sharing art- they’re just _words_ they appreciate; ones that inspire thought or emotion enough to share with the one other person who will appreciate what’s been written an equal amount. But Aster can’t help the twinge, the thought in the back of her head that says _maybe_. Some nights, the words they share feel like they might have more behind them than a shared love of literature. 

Aster tucks that thought as far back into the recesses of her mind as she can.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chap title: Misty Blue, sung by Dorothy Moore
> 
> Ellie's quote about growth is from Mortimer Adler.


	4. And now I laugh at how the world changed me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world does not implode. Her father doesn't ride in with a bible and hurl down scripture. She is not told to leave because she doesn't fit in- as she looks around the room she quickly realises that Ellie was right, all those months ago. 
> 
> The good thing about being different is that no one expects you to be like them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for internalised homophobia (nothing too hectic, just aster never really being exposed to gay things before)

She arrives at her first meeting late, slipping in quietly. It’s one of the last of the semester- finals is just a week away. She’s fully intending to just hide in the back somewhere; or perhaps just pop her head in, panic, and leave, but when she arrives she’s surprised by how many people are in the small room. 

Eyes widening, she takes in the group. She was expecting maybe a circle in the centre of the room, a few people seated and hotly debating...issues she wasn’t sure about. 

She soon realises how wholly unprepared she is for an LGBT+ group. In her head,everyone in here has black hair and glasses; with some kind of rainbow affixed to their clothes. She suddenly realises she has a set image of what being _LGBT+_ might look like; an amalgamation of the one gay person she knows and the flag she knows belongs to this community (a fact she’d learnt a few summers ago, when her younger sister had proudly placed a rainbow flag on her door next to a unicorn sticker, only to have her father rip it off and explain the colours had been stolen by _those people_ .) Squahamish wasn’t the most inclusive place, after all. Until Ellie, she hadn’t even considered anyone in town might even be like _that_. Least of all herself. She's not even sure she is, some days. But that's why she's here, right?

But he’s wholly unprepared for the semi-crowded room she finds herself in, filled with not just girls who look like Ellie Chu, but girls and boys and people she can’t even _tell_ the gender of. And they’re not sitting in a circle like it’s an AA meeting, like they have some addiction, or vice, or illness they’re working through- instead, they’re all just talking, mingling, munching on the provided snacks and laughing and looking like entirely normal, average people. 

Aster’s had a sneaking suspicion for a while that this might be the case, despite her father's claims. 

Squahamish may not be inclusive, but she has netflix, and the internet, and it _is_ 2020, after all. Still, having it confirmed to her as she looks around the room is like a lighting strike. And not in a fire and brimstone way, where God immediately smites her when she enters the room, - but in the same way it had felt when Ellie’s lips collided with hers all those months ago. Like the world was being lit up in an entirely new way; what she’d thought to be true was burnt away to reveal the truth of the matter that lay beneath. 

The world does not implode. Her father doesn't ride in with a bible and hurl down scripture. She is not told to leave because she doesn't fit in- as she looks around the room she quickly realises that Ellie was right, all those months ago. 

_The good thing about being different is that no one expects you to be like them._

So she doesn’t panic and leave, or hide in the back of the room. Instead she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and steps fully into the room. 

“Hi,” She says, to the first people to turn to her, “I’m Aster.” 

It’s her second bold stroke, and it’s beautiful. 

* * *

_DiagaRivero: Went to an interesting meeting today._

She starts, and as ever there’s only a slight delay before the reply comes through. 

_SmithCorona: Yeah? Obscure Artists Fans Unite? Graffiti Vandals of Minneapolis?_

Aster rolls her eyes. 

_DiegaRivero: You should never run a club. You have no idea how to make up a catchy name._

_SmithCorona: I’ll have you know I’m the president of the Munsky Appreciation Society. It's a plenty catchy name!_

_SmithCorona: Don’t tell Paul I said that. He’ll be altogether too pleased, and I’ll never hear the end of it._

_DiegaRivero: I don’t really speak to Paul enough to tell him, but noted._

The pain of what Paul and Ellie did has faded, sort of, and Aster has spoken to the boy a few times since she left for college, but she hasn’t picked up the friendship with him the way she has with Ellie. 

_SmithCorona: Oh? I guess I thought if you were speaking to me again, you were to him, too._

Aster sighs. They don’t talk about _before_. Their conversations almost always center around school in some way or another. It seems like they might be talking about it now, though.

_DiegaRivero: I don’t not talk to him. I just don’t really know what to say, anymore. Everything I did say, I was actually saying to you. I’m just not sure he and I have that much in common. Also, I did slap him pretty hard, remember?_

_SmithCorona: I just assumed you were talking to us both- you’d actually get on well, I think. Maybe over the break, the three of us could catch up, or something? It’s up to you, obviously. But it might be nice. And I wouldn’t worry about the slap, I’m sure the sting has eased for him._

Aster blinks. She hadn’t actually considered that they’d both be back in Squahamish for break. And as for the second part of Ellie’s message...

_DiegaRivero: Well, bully for him, then._

It’s potentially a bit snarky, but Aster can’t bring herself to regret it. Maybe it’s the weight of her day wearing on her, or maybe this is something that’s been sitting with her for a while. But if Ellie’s going to bring up the past, she’s not going to shy away from it. They’d _hurt_ her, the both of them. Just because she and Ellie didn’t talk about it, it didn’t mean the feelings weren’t still there. 

_SmithCorona: Aster…_

There’s a pause in response, though there are bounding dots indicating that Ellie's typing. Aster doesn't wait for the follow up, though. She types her own message, tears just barely prickling the back of her eyes. She hates that she still feels this way, that even though she and Ellie are now some kind of friends, she’s still carrying the pain of what happened. 

_DiegaRivero: Can we just..not address the whole ‘you and Paul deceived me for months’ thing? I’m still processing it and honestly I don’t know how to feel about any of it. So let’s just. Not. For now._

_SmithCorona: Understood. I'm sorry. But when you’re ready to address it, I think we should. All three of us, probably._

Probably. 

Aster sighs. It’s incredibly annoying that Ellie’s right. She’d rather brush this under the rug, move on and pretend it never happened. Be textual study friends with Ellie, give Paul distant hellos and goodbyes when she runs into him on holidays, and live out her life with the pain of Squahamish left in a box on the shelf. That’s the easy way. 

Not, unfortunately, the bold one. The type of life she's _trying_ to live, these days.

_DiegaRivero: Fine. Over break, I head back a couple of days after finals. I guess you two do owe me an explanation._

_DiegaRivero: And a milkshake._

_SmithCorona: Deal. Thank you._

Aster lets out the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. She isn’t looking forward to this meeting, exactly, but she’s surprised to find she’s not dreading it, either. She’s about to put her phone down when it buzzes again. 

_SmithCorona: Now, do you want to tell me about your meeting? I assume it must have been a gathering of superior intellectual pursuits if the great mind of Aster Flores found it interesting._

Aster had almost forgotten why she'd texted Ellie in the first place. The meeting. She finds herself hesitating, not sure if she’s ready to divulge where she went. She hadn’t even told Kate, who she’d become incredibly close with over their first semester. Other than Ellie, she’s probably Aster’s closest friend. 

(The fact that Aster considers Ellie her closest friend- and the fact that she seems to only have two friends- causes her to frown, before shaking her head. She has the rest of her life to make friends. Or she’ll make do with the one she currently lives with and the one she only communicates with via text. And maybe a dog.) 

Finally, she relents, needing talk to someone. And if anyone will understand, she knows it’s Ellie. 

_DiegaRivero: It was an LGBT+ meeting, actually. Not so much intellectually stimulating as emotionally so._

She waits with barely baited breath as the dots disappear and reappear, before her face morphs into a grin at Ellie’s first message. 

_SmithCorona: That is freaking awesome, Aster. I am disgustingly, sincerely proud of you._

_SmithCorona: How was it? I came home and cried when I went the first time._

Aster’s smile fades somewhat when she realises that while she’s shared what she considers a key piece of information with Ellie, Ellie clearly hadn’t felt the need to share the same fact with her. Ellie doesn't owe her information, of course. And it's not like they actually really talk about their lives outside of coursework, often. Aster barely knows what Ellie actually gets up to outside of classes. But it still smarts that she'd _just_ been considering Ellie one of her closest friends while Ellie is clearly living her own independent life. Aster realises suddenly that these texts might mean a lot more to her than they do Ellie, and she can’t help the slight unease she feels come out in her response. 

_DiegaRivero: Oh, I didn’t realise you went to one. It was fine. More people than I anticipated, but okay._

She wants to tell Ellie _everything_ ; how her whole world felt somewhat shattered and shifted, how she _had_ in fact come back and cried, how she’d realised that maybe a _different_ her wasn’t as far away as she’d thought as she looked around the room and saw plenty of people who looked just as confused and brave and new as she did. How she spoke to one of the guys there about how she wasn't sure why she was even there and he'd just given her a warm smile and told her to take her time; how she'd learnt more words than she even knew existed and that some of them sounded like they might describe her. She doesn’t, though. Knowing Ellie has been going to meetings too, and seemingly found them just as impactful as she did but without the impulse to share it, makes her pause. 

_SmithCorona: Honestly? I didn’t mention it on purpose._

Well, that stings. 

_SmithCorona: I didn’t want you to feel like I was...pushing you. Or forcing you to be sure of things before you’re ready. Or talk about things you might not feel super comfortable about._

And like that, the sting eases. In fact, she feels her heart lift as the next message comes through. 

_SmithCorona: We did agree to a couple of years, after all. ;)_

_SmithCorona: So. How was it, really?_

And Aster laughs, though it’s half choked with a sob. And she starts to type. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title - After All, Dar Williams


	5. To me, you're strange and you're beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s a four hour detour and a three day road trip between friends, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know how far apart things are, so google maps was my PAL here, though we all know it's not always entirely correct. 
> 
> but minneapolis to washington state via iowa is a LONG. DRIVE.
> 
> there wasn't *meant* to be a roadtrip in this fic, but here we are. 
> 
> because who hasn't driven four hours just to see a pretty girl, right?

Aster’s looking forward to the holidays. She is, genuinely. Her first semester has been great; her grades are better than expected, she’s managed to make a friend who likes her for _her_ , not what she represents; and she feels, for the first time, like she might have a vague idea who Aster Flores actually is, not who people want her to be. 

Which is why she’d offered, in a fit of finals-related euphoria, to drive Ellie back home and save her the long train ride. 

What’s a four hour detour and a three day road trip between friends, right?

That’s what she’d thought at the time, anyway. And fine, _maybe_ she’d just been buzzed at the time, courtesy of Shane’s (Kate’s unsurprisingly lovely boyfriend) open bar at his apartment. She’d been to a couple of parties over the course of the semester, but this was the first one that Kate had coaxed her into having more than a single drink at.

“Girl, it’s the end of our first college semester! We won’t see each other for two weeks! We _have_ to get drunk together, it’s tradition!” Aster had doubted at the time that it _was_ tradition, but she’d still accepted the second, and third, cup thrust into her hand. She'd miss Kate over the break, and Shane, who she'd gotten to know over the weekends he came to visit; as well as their collective friends that Aster was somewhat beginning to consider her own. College was feeling significantly more like home than it had when she'd first arrived, unsurprisingly, and while she was looking forward to having a break from schoolwork, the idea of going back to Squahamish and facing the town alone filled her with more or a sense of dread than she'd anticipated. 

So at the time, it made perfect sense for her to pull out her phone and offer her services to Ellie as chauffeur in two days time, knowing the girl was due to board a train the same time Aster was starting the long drive home. 

_Why not save on the train ticket and split petrol instead? It’s practical economics._ She’d argued when Ellie had emphatically refused the offer on the grounds it was too generous and way, _way_ out of Aster’s way. 

_SmithCorona: It is absolutely not practical anything, Flores._

_DiegaRivero: It’s a practical way to spend time with me._

Aster had responded simply, and Ellie’s response was even simpler. 

_SmithCorona: Fine._

* * *

And now, here she is, parked outside Ellie’s dorm building. She's out of the car, pacing nervously around it. Ostensibly, it's to stretch her legs from the drive- it is definitely _not_ an attempt to expel some of her nervous energy at the thought of seeing Ellie again. Not just seeing her, either, but spending three days in a confined space with her. 

‘Chill, Aster.’ She murmurs to herself, trying to breathe out some of her building anxiety. It’s not effective, as she jumps out of her skin when an all too familiar voice sounds next to her.

“Talking to yourself, or the big guy upstairs?” Ellie asks, glancing towards the sky with a wary look, and some of Aster’s tension rolls away as she laughs. 

“Just myself. God and I are still on tentative terms, these days. How are you, heathen?” She replies, turning fully towards her friend, taking her in for the first time in months. 

They regard each other in a more familiar silence than Aster had anticipated. Ellie looks good, exactly like Aster remembers but somehow even more _Ellie_. She’s still wearing layers, which Aster isn’t surprised by, but her hair is slightly shorter and there’s a smile on her face that’s more comfortable and confident than Aster remembers. The warmth and understanding is still there in her eyes, though, and Aster can’t help the smile that breaks out on her face. 

“Hey.” Ellie says, softly, and Aster feels the last of her tension ebb away. This will be _fine_ , she realises. Even when she was still completely furious at Ellie, that day outside the restaurant, she still managed to feel more comfortable around the girl than she has with anyone else. Ellie sees her, she remembers, sees her and doesn't judge what she witnesses. 

“Hey yourself.” Aster takes a half step forward, arms reaching out. Ellie’s eyes widen in a look akin to panic, one that’s all too familiar, and Aster can’t help but be reminded of a very similar look that day in the spring.

“Relax. I’m taking your bag, not removing your clothes.” She says as she reaches for the bags on the ground by Ellie feet, and immediately flushes when she realises what she’s said. Ellie looks no better, her eyes looking everywhere but at Aster, a slight blush to her cheeks. 

Finally, she risks a glance at the girl as Aster grabs hold of her bag and straightens. 

“I swear, you go to one LGBT+ meeting and you’re trying to take off the clothes of every girl you meet. Liberal schools these days…” Ellie manages to crack at last, her lips twitching into a smile, and Aster’s laugh breaks out, glad for the break in tension. 

“Shut _up_. Now get in, we have a long drive ahead. And if you’re going to make fun of me, I’m not telling you where I hid the yakult I got, just for you.”

Ellie’s smile drops immediately, and Aster laughs again. 

* * *

The first hour of their trip is spent catching up- _properly_ \- about their life beyond classes. On top of her studies, Ellie is tutoring a few hours a week, teaches piano on Saturday mornings, as well as attending the LGBT+ club _and_ the college’s Asian Student’s Union. On a note she claims is entirely unrelated, she has become a _big_ fan of coffee since starting college. When Astor glances over at her, she can see the slight darkness beneath Ellie’s eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re not overloading yourself?” She asks, a concerned look in her eyes. Ellie just glances back, shaking her head dismissively. 

“No. I worked morning and night at the station for five years, wrote enough essays for multiple classes to have graduated three times, and still had time to grace the church with my talents. It’s tiring, but it’s no more so than I’ve done for years.” She points out, and Aster nods, before looking back at her with a frown. 

“Wait, five years? You signalled the trains when you were _thirteen_?” She asks, incredulously. Ellie stiffens and shifts in her seat. Aster waits, patiently, until Ellie’s ready. Eventually, she sighs. 

“When mom died. Dad...didn’t take it well. He wasn’t able to work, he could barely get out of bed. Someone had to do it, so I did.” She’s quiet, but there’s a fierceness in her voice as though she’s daring Aster to say a word against Ellie or her father. Instead, Aster just reaches out to squeeze her hand. 

“That sounds really hard. I’m sorry.” 

Ellie doesn’t respond out loud, but Aster feels her grip tighten. Their hands stay clasped together until their first pit stop an hour later, and Aster tries not to notice the pang she feels when their fingers finally untangle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stange and Beautiful- Aqualung


	6. Turn back, look at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie chokes on her fries when Aster steps out, and then knocks over her milkshake in her haste to spin around.

By the time they stop for the night in Sioux Falls, Aster is exhausted. She’s been driving for almost ten hours, her back is killing her from being in the car all day, and she honestly just wants to curl up and pass out when they pull in at a motel just outside the city. Ellie, however, insists she at least eat something before she fades into unconsciousness. 

“I’ll go get some food while you shower, okay? There’s a diner next door, and you haven’t had anything but coffee since lunch.” She says as they bundle their way into the twin room. Aster nods, already halfway to the shower. She pauses at the bathroom door, looking back to see Ellie staring right at her, leaning against the room's door and just watching, a quiet smile on her face. Aster lets herself smile back for a moment, letting the moment of comfort and affection linger between them. 

“Thank you.” She finally says, and Ellie just gives her a nod. But there’s a warmth in her eyes that warms Aster’s tired body, one last lasts even after she's stepped into the dismal temperature of the motel room shower. 

* * *

Aster emerges back into the main room some minutes later, towel wrapped around her body, hair still dripping wet. She hadn't realised Ellie was back or she might have warned the poor girl she was about to appear- Ellie chokes on her fries when Aster steps out, and then knocks over her milkshake in her haste to spin around. The cool liquid drips onto the floor as Aster snorts in amusement. 

"You've seen me in less." She points out, amused, and Ellie just tilts her head at the lightswitch like it's a feat of engineering. "Now that I _know_ isn't deciduous." 

Aster teases, opening her bag to find her pyjamas. Ellie mutters something that sounds a lot like a curse before she turns, eye covering her view of Aster, and makes for the bathroom. 

"I'm getting a towel for the spill!" She cries as the door slams behind her, and Aster just laughs. Pulling in underwear, her amusement dries as she roots through her bag, frowning as she notices a key component is sitting from her bag. Where the hell are her pyjamas? Frowning, Aster tries to think back to the morning, when she'd shoved the last of her toiletries into her bag, still half asleep. With a sigh, she has the sudden image of her the missing clothes, folded on the edge of her bed, still waiting to be packed. Dammit. 

"Hey Ellie?" She calls, wandering over to the other girl's bed, where he bag is sitting open. There's no response, and Aster smirks at the level of shock she seems to have sent Ellie into. Aster doesn't think she's particularly vain, but she's also not blind. She knows the affect she has on people, has made them tongue-tied before- Trig, Paul, most guys she speaks to as a general rule- but never someone so eloquent as Ellie. Aster finds she doesn't mind the affect she's had.

Glancing at the bathroom door, Aster makes up her mind. She doesn't relish wearing her uncomfortable day clothes to bed- she mostly wears dresses, jeans, or shirts, none of which make for a great night's sleep- and she's sure Ellie won't mind if she borrows something until they arrive. It's not like the girl hasn't packed a veritable _abundance_ of layers for the trip, anyway. Opening the bag a little- she doesn't want to pry through Ellie's stuff, just grab the most comfortable looking thing she sees. But her face breaks into a smile when she sees a scrap of fabric she recognises. The top from their day at the spring, the one that Aster had taken from Ellie and worn herself. Grabbing the soft, faded yellow, Aster pulls out the t-shirt, bringing it to her face as if to bring back the memories from that day. As if she doesn't remember it all anyway. Glancing back at the door, she pulls the top on just as there's a gentle knock. 

"Are you dressed yet?" Asks Ellie from the other side, and Aster snorts. 

"You'll just have to come out and see." She sing-songs, making her way to the table to grab her own serve of dinner. She almost misses the gasp Ellie lets out when she enters the room, but she doesn't miss the flash of white as the towel Ellie was holding in her hand drops to the floor. Turning fully, Aster glances down at herself self-consciously when she sees how still Ellie is standing, eyes wide and shocked. 

"Sorry, I forgot to pack pyjamas and I figured it would be okay for at least the night? We can go to target or something tomorrow, I just didn't really have anything for tonight.." She starts, but Ellie's still gaping at her like a fish. "I could just wear one of my dresses or something, I'm sure there's something in my bag, I shouldn't have assumed..." 

She's moving back across the room to her own bag, hair thankfully falling over her face to hide her embarrassment at presuming this would be okay, that she and Ellie were close enough to share clothes, when Ellie's voice cuts through her thoughts. 

" _No."_ It comes out quiet, but forceful, and Aster whips around to see that Ellie's looking at her properly now, not just staring. Her face softens as she sees Aster's worry.

"No." She says, more softly. "It's fine, I swear. I was just surprised. I've never- I don't-" Ellie pauses, jaw clenching for a second before her eyes flick to the wall and back to Aster again. Aster just waits until she's ready, knows that sometimes Ellie needs a few seconds before she's ready to share things she deems too emotional or personal. 

"I've never had a - a person- close enough to share clothes with. Like friends do in movies or books or real life, I guess. Borrowing stuff from each other's closets or whatever. ." She admits, and Aster's chest fills with understanding. Growing up with a little sister (and now Kate, for that matter, who has a 'what's yours is mine' policy when it came to possessions) she's never been without someone to share with in a crisis- be it dates, parties, or lost pyjamas. She'd never considered that Ellie hadn't had that closeness before. She's still not quite looking at Aster, though, so Aster jokes to break the tension.

"Not even Paul? I think he'd look great in your long underwear." It works. Ellie's eyes come back to hers and she meets Aster's smile, rolling her eyes. Taking a breath, Ellie leans down to pick up the towel, finally making her way over to the spilled milkshake. Aster moves to join her at the small table, helping her clean the mess before they finally sit for their (now somewhat cooler) dinner. Ellie's still somewhat lost in thought, so Aster snakes her foot out, poking Ellie's leg with her own. 

"What?" She asks, and Ellie gives a half shrug. 

"It's stupid, really." She says, but Aster just stares at her, brows raised. Stupidity isn't something synonymous with Ellie Chu. Finally, Ellie sighs.

"Fine," She relents, rolling her eyes. "I just realised- it's my first sleepover. Don't make it weird!" She says, catching the thrilled look in Aster's eyes. Aster just beams with excitement, happy she gets to have this moment in Ellie's life. Ellie's had enough key moments in hers, it's only fair. 

" _Ever?"_ She clarifies, and Ellie just nods, shoving several fries into her mouth and doing her best to look casual about it. Aster grins.

"We are going to have _so much fun!_ We'll start by braiding each others' hair, then we'll play truth or dare, and _then"_ , Aster leans forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "we'll talk about all the hot boys we like." 

Ellie just blinks at her, looking torn about whether she wants to laugh or throw her fries at Aster. She settles on both, a smile breaking out on her face as she releases a fry at Aster's head. Aster ducks just in time. 

"I literally hate you." Ellie says, dryly, and Aster just beams back. 

"No you don't." She retorts, and Ellie sighs, taking a sip of Aster's milkshake. 

"No, I don't." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Chance Have I Got- Yo La Tengo


	7. These days full of moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had she really been about to kiss Ellie?
> 
> Had she really not gotten to?
> 
> Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love aster flores because she is a mess of feelings

Aster wakes to find Ellie already up, coffee cup in hand; one for Aster waiting on the small table by her bed. Ellie's sitting by the window, scrawling something in a notebook with a thoughtful frown on her face. Aster lets herself take the girl in for a few moments. She’s _beautiful_ , Aster realises, not for the first time. Even just sitting and thinking, there’s something about Ellie that Aster can’t tear her eyes away from. Still, though. She can’t stare all day. As Aster yawns and pulls herself up, the girl looks over at her, a smile on her face. 

"Good morning, sunshine." Aster frowns at Ellie's face. It's altogether _too_ peppy for the hour, and there's a gleam in her eyes that makes Aster nervous. 

“Hello to you too. Why are you looking at me like that?” Aster asks, taking a much-needed sip of her coffee. She’s going to need more than this one cup if she’s going to drive the same amount again, today. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Ellie starts, biting her lip slightly. Aster feels something tug at the sight, low in her belly. She glances away, looking back at Ellie warily. 

“Sounds dangerous. What about?” Ellie waits a few seconds, as if considering how to approach what she’s about to say. 

“I thought maybe you could...teach me to drive?” She ends up rushing out, the words almost tumbling together. She smiles like a child who’s just asked for a present when she’s finished, and Aster just blinks. _This_ is what has Ellie so excited?

“You want me to teach you how to drive?” Aster asks, and Ellie nods excitedly. “Are you sure? I’ve only had my license for like, eighteen months.” She points out. Ellie shrugs. 

“That’s eighteen months longer than me. Also I know from experience you’re a good driver. Plus, it makes sense. This way we can share the driving, here _and_ the way back. I won’t feel so useless, you’ll get a chance to rest. Well, not really, because you’ll have to be watching the road and me, but still.” 

“I _can_ think of worse things than watching you.” Aster muses before she can stop herself, before realising she’s spoken out loud. She takes another sip of her drink, avoiding Ellie’s smirk. 

“So. Thoughts?” Ellie asks, but Aster had already agreed the moment Ellie had suggested the plan. It might add some time to their trip, sure, but that wasn’t a problem for Aster. Most of why she wanted to go back to Squahamish is already here in this room, if she’s being honest. And it _will_ be nice to share the driving. 

“Of course. Be warned, though, I am a harsh teacher.” 

“I’d expect nothing less.” 

* * *

“I didn’t think you’d be _that_ harsh.” Grumbles Ellie, hours later, as they pull into a motel for the night. Aster rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, you wanted to learn. And you _have_ to drive at the speed limit, not 15 miles below- especially not on a highway. If that means I have to call you mud king to get you to speed up, so be it.” She retorts, pushing open the door to their room. Behind her, Ellie’s muttering something akin to ‘ _I’m not nearly as slow as Trig, rude’_ , but Aster barely hears her, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of the bed. 

Singular. 

Aster turns just as Ellie walks right into her, hands coming out and grabbing Aster’s hips to hold them both steady. Instinctively, Aster’s hands find Ellie’s forearms and they stand there for a fraction too long before Ellie coughs and steps back. Aster stays where she is another second. The last time they’d been that close was on the street in Squahamish, when Ellie had ki-

“What’s wrong?” Asks Ellie, trying to peer past her and into the room Aster had spun out of, and she remembers why she’d turned in the first place. 

“The bed..” She says, weakly, before stepping aside so Ellie can see. The other girl huffs in annoyance. 

“I asked for a twin. So annoying. Come on, let’s go get a proper room.” She says, and Astor’s _about_ to argue that they don’t need to make a fuss when she remembers how her brain had short circuited mere seconds ago at Ellie’s closeness. Perhaps sharing a bed isn’t a wonderful idea. 

She follows Ellie to the front desk, where a bored looking clerk glances up again and rolls his eyes. Ellie frowns slightly at his response, before explaining the situation. The clerk rolls his eyes again. 

“As I said at the time, ladies, we only have double rooms available. I actually said it twice, but you were too busy flirting to acknowledge it so I figured it was fine.” He says, dryly, and Aster has a blaze of absolute panic, spluttering and turning to the man in shock.

 _Flirting?_ She wasn’t _flirting_! She’s about to say as much, defend herself, but then she catches the look in Ellie’s eyes. Ellie isn’t looking at the man in panic, or shame like Aster is. Instead she’s watching Aster’s reaction, something like hurt flickering in her eyes. Shame rises again in Aster’s gut, but it’s at her own reaction, not the man’s nonchalant words. 

“A double is fine. Thank you.” She says, quietly, before turning on her heel and marching quickly back to their room. She can hear Ellie behind her, but the silence between them feels deafening. 

She heads straight for the offending piece of furniture, sitting down on it and holding her head in her hands. She feels on the brink of tears, but she’s not sure exactly _why_. Across the room, she hears Ellie close the door and a sound she assumes is the girl leaning against it. 

The silence stretches for a few more minutes. Aster pushes the heel of her palms into her eyes, willing the tears back in. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, quietly, but Ellie just sighs. 

“Why?” The girl responds, and Aster pulls her head out of her hands, looking up in confusion. 

“Who are you apologising to? And why?” Ellie challenges, and Astor blinks. Why _is_ she apologising? For hurting Ellie, for panicking? For the feelings of shame that cascaded over her when she thought someone _knew_ , like this tentative thing in her heart was something shameful to hide? To God? 

“I panicked.” She says, and Ellie nods. 

“You did, but that’s nothing to feel sorry for.” Aster just blinks at her, not fully comprehending, and Ellie crosses the room, coming to kneel in front of her. She pulls Aster’s hands fully away from her face. “Someone said something you weren’t expecting, you reacted. You did nothing _wrong_ , Aster. Not when you panicked, and not before.” 

Ellie blinks up at her, and Aster understands. She’d felt shame not just because of what he’d said, but because he was _right._ They’d been flirting. All day. Before that, really. But that wasn’t wrong. It was just different. Not the Aster she’d expected to be, but the Aster she was starting to realise she was, one that flirted with boys and girls and enjoyed both. One that didn’t need to feel ashamed about it. 

“It wasn’t you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She starts, desperately wanting Ellie to understand that her reaction had nothing to do with Ellie and everything to do with herself. 

“I know, and I’m not hurt.” Ellie interrupts, softly, brushing a loose strand of Aster’s hair back behind her ear. “Believe me, I know. But you never _ever_ have to apologise for something like that to me, okay? You’re working things out. Most people our age are. You’re allowed to panic now and then- you don’t have to try to be sure before you actually _are,_ okay? This isn’t a race to acceptance. But just know, Aster, that whoever you come out of this being- there is absolutely nothing wrong with it, okay? And I’ll never judge you for it. Nor will anyone else who matters. Not even _Him_ , if that’s what you’re worried about. Paul’s been educating me on the God stuff, and just like with everything else, I am extremely knowledgeable on the subject.” She says, a small smile on her lips. Her hand cups Aster’s face softly. Aster’s eyes flutter shut, and she lets Ellie’s words drape over her like the comfort of a blanket on a cold night. 

Opening her eyes, she realises how close they are. She can see each one of Ellie’s eyelashes, the slight smudge on one of her lenses. She can feel Ellie’s breath against her face and Aster wonders what would happen if she were to lean forward right now, close the gap between them. 

She’s about to. She’s milliseconds away from picking up the paintbrush and placing her third bold stroke against the canvas, her lips so close against Ellie’s she swears she can almost feel them, when Ellie’s phone rings, loudly and obnoxiously. Ellie starts, and the two of them pull abruptly back, the moment gone. Ellie’s frowning as she pulls out her phone, though it shifts to a brief look of concern as she sees the caller ID.

“Ba?” She asks, standing up and moving across the room, before starting to talk very quickly in what Aster supposes must be Mandarin. She looks apologetically at Aster and then towards the door, but Aster waves her off.

“Go, talk.” She mouths, and Ellie gives a grateful nod, heading out of the room and replying down the phone in a fondly exasperated tone. Aster watches her leave, flopping back on the bed with a mixture of relief and regret. 

Had she really been about to kiss Ellie?

Had she really _not_ gotten to?

Fuck.

* * *

Ellie doesn’t get back until Aster is more or less asleep in bed. She’s curled up on the left hand side in Ellie’s t-shirt (the one she’s quietly starting to consider as her own), book in hand, head drooping with drowsiness, when Ellie finally steps back through the door. 

“Everything okay?” She asks, and Ellie nods, shedding herself of her jacket and shoes as she makes her way over to her bag. 

“Yeah, all good. Ba just wanted to check what time I was arriving, so he and Paul can have dinner on the way when I get there. Apparently, they’ve _perfected_ a sausage just for me.” Her voice is dry but Aster can tell she’s secretly pleased. 

“A sausage, just for you? Why, it’s every girl’s dream.” Aster drawls, teasing, and Ellie smirks to herself before looking up at Aster. 

“Oh, you have one too.” She says, clearly amused, and Aster blinks. “Paul made a taco sausage, just when we first met. Given that mine’s based on a braised pork recipe, it seems likely that Paul expresses his...affection the only way he knows how. Sausages.” 

“Paul made a...taco sausage. For me.” Aster states, and Ellie’s smirk grows into a fully fledged grin. Aster shuts her eyes and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Only Paul could make that somehow sweet and not offensive.” She says as her eyes reopen, and Ellie nods as though she understands Aster’s thoughts all too well. 

“Correct. He’s all heart, that boy, and minimal brain.” Ellie sniffs, turning back to her bag to pull out her night clothes. “It’s why we work so well, we’re opposites.” 

Aster frowns. 

“Hey, you’ve got heart.” She argues, but Ellie just shrugs. 

“Sometimes. Don’t look.” Aster’s about to argue with her when Ellie starts pulling her shirt over her head. It’s not that she’s purposefully ignoring Ellie’s instruction, but she finds herself oddly unable to avert her eyes as more and more of Ellie’s skin gets revealed. It’s smooth and slightly paler than her face and Aster suddenly, desperately, wants to know what it feels like. But then Ellie starts to turn and Aster remembers she’s not meant to be looking, so she screws her eyes shut just as Ellie turns properly. 

“Honestly, you’re worse than me. And I’m _useless._ ” She hears Ellie mutter, and Aster can feel herself blushing even as Ellie’s footsteps recede into the bathroom. It’s not until she hears the door close and the tap start running that she opens her eyes, sliding down into the sheets and burrowing into them. Maybe if she hides long enough, they’ll both forget that she was just caught checking Ellie out. 

She most certainly hasn’t forgotten when Ellie re-emerges from the bathroom and slides into the bed next to her, flicking off the light as she does so. Thankfully, Ellie doesn’t mention it. Instead, they lie in a vaguely awkward silence for a few minutes, Ellie shuffling around to get comfortable, Aster lying stock still. Finally, Ellie settles, and Aster’s wondering how she’s ever going to get to sleep with the girl lying so close to her when a warm hand crosses the space between them on the mattress and gives her arm a small squeeze. 

“Relax.” Ellie’s voice says, quietly. “It’s just me.” 

And _that_ , thinks Aster, is entirely the problem. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Drive Slow by Addie


	8. Good Lord, show me the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe, she thinks, her father doesn’t know God’s words quite as well as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for religion based homophobia

The day they arrive in Squahamish, after a definitely _not_ tearful Aster drops off an equally un-emotionally affected Ellie at her door, Aster turns the car around. She heads not for her parent’s house, where she knows her mother and father and baby sister are eagerly awaiting her arrival, but back out of town and down a winding country road to a dirt track she knows well. 

She takes her time along it, reveling in the familiar sights and sounds. The trees crowd in on her, a crow circles lazily overhead, the twigs rustle and snap beneath her feet, and as Aster steps into the clearing she’s reminded of how she feels more at home here than she’s ever felt in her actual home.   
  
The spring is unchanged since the last time she was here. Steam rises off it gracefully, and Aster allows herself to watch the swirls of vapour before they disappear. She strips off slowly, not bothering to look around herself first- here, by the spring, is the only place she’s ever totally alone. 

She slides into the water, lets it wash over her. Feels the strain and stress of graduating, moving, college, _life_ wash away from her until it’s just her, alone, in the spring. 

_‘How easy it is to forget that we have the privilege of living in God’s art gallery.’_ She thinks to herself, recalling the passage of a book that had struck her when she’d first found this place, years ago. The church might be where she goes- where she _went-_ to pay, to worship, but here is where she comes to sit with God. To talk to Him, and seek answers. 

In the months before graduation she’d felt her belief wavering. If God was listening, Aster had spent hours wondering, what was His plan for her? Was it really to stay in Squahamish with Trig, being a living a small life in a small town? Was that _it_ for her, His divine reckoning? 

She’d thought Paul’s letters were a sign from Him that no, there was more in store for her. 

And they were that sign, in a way. But the sign didn’t point to Paul, or even to Ellie. They pointed to a new life, a bigger, bolder one. And Aster believed- the part of her that still _did_ believe- that those letters were indeed a sign for her. That, she could handle. That, she could understand. 

No, what she _couldn’t_ grapple with was what else the letters signified. 

Her father had always been very clear on what love looked like. There was purity, and there was perversion. There was saving, and there was sin. 

He knew this, he said, because he knew the bible; because it was _his_ divine reckoning to impart teachings onto His followers. And though she’d been raised to be an obedient daughter; kind and polite and never one to disagree, Aster grew and began to struggle with what her father was teaching. She just couldn’t understand how a God who made all in His image, who made no mistakes, made humanity in his perfection; could just as easily damn those who weren’t like him, or didn’t love the right way, or behave the right way. How could a God of love be so filled with hatred? And what had she done, pure Aster Flores, good daughter, granddaughter, Christian- what had _she_ done to deserve feelings of perversion instead of purity?

So she pushed them away. She shut them in a box along with her paintbrushes and her doubts and she sat studiously in the pews and she listened, and listened, and prayed, and let those feelings stay far, far down. So far down she’d almost forgotten her fears; forgotten her terror over the thought one day God or her father would discover the truth about her, that her divine reckoning would be snatched away to someone more deserving. 

Until those _damn_ letters, Ellie Chu and her stupid, beautiful words, had to go and open up her paintbox; let the art supplies and the feelings come tumbling back out. 

She’d had a flash, a quick, swiftly discarded thought that _maybe_ it wasn’t Paul writing the letters, _maybe_ it was smart, bookish Ellie who seemed to see Aster in a way no one else did, _maybe_ that wasn’t a terrible thought; as quickly as she had the thought she dismissed it, and then she waited in panic for the punishment to arrive, but it didn’t. 

Ellie kissed her in the street. She waited in panic for the punishment to arrive, but it didn’t. 

She went to college, took and LGBT pamphlet of her pillow and kept it under her bed. She woke up the next morning, far from the depths of hell. 

She texted Ellie. She went to a meeting. She spent three days in a car with a miraculous young woman, thought about _kissing_ her, and yet. 

Her father’s predicted punishments were not handed down. 

Maybe, she thinks, her father doesn’t know God’s words quite as well as he thought. 

So Aster floats in the water. She lets the steam rise, lets the wind blow, lets her heart feel all the kinds of love it always has. 

And the punishment doesn’t arrive. 

Aster floats on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter title is brought to you by Down in the river to pray by Alison Krauss; and the quote in the chapter is by Erica Goros.
> 
> I've had lots of thoughts over Aster's relationship with religion. I toyed with not having this chapter and having Aster just completely drop her belief in god but tbh I think if you've been raised so surrounded by that belief it will be hard to shake, even if it wavers plenty? And I think for aster, finding solace and confidence in both her sexuality and her religion is an important step to her coming to terms with who she is.


	9. So it really made a difference when I narrowed down my vision to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yours in truth (and hope), 
> 
> Ellie Chu.

One would think, after a three day road trip, that Aster’s nerves about her upcoming talk with Ellie and Paul would have dissipated completely. After all, she and Ellie are good, right? If anything, they’re more than good. They’re...something. Aster’s not sure what, exactly, but she knows she’s not harbouring any ill-will towards the girl, any more. She still wants to know why Ellie had agreed to write the letters, of course. Though she has a fairly good idea, she wants to hear it from Ellie. 

And as for Paul, well. She knows that if she can forgive Ellie, she can forgive Paul; and she trusts Ellie’s judgment enough that if she considers him her best friend, he’s clearly a good guy; but Aster knows she needs to clear the air properly. 

So, two days after they’d arrived back in Squahamish,Aster pulls in at the diner. She can see Paul and Ellie in the window, chatting happily away about something, and her heart pangs. She wonders if, had she given Paul the chance to explain herself before now, she might have that easy relationship with them both. She’s not too sure. She’s nervous, too- she doesn’t know how much Ellie’s said to Paul about them; whether he knows about their brief kiss before Ellie left, their talking through the semester, about how close they’d gotten during the roadtrip, any of it. She’s not sure how much she wants him to know. 

When she enters, they both stand, smiles on their face. Ellie looks at Aster like she always does- part relieved, part in awe, part happy. Paul, on the other hand, positively beams , stepping forward with his arms out before clearly thinking better of it and giving her a happy wave instead. 

“Aster! Hey!” He says, and some of Aster’s nerves dissipate. He’s significantly less tongue-tied around her than he used to be, and he seems genuinely pleased to see her. He gestures to the booth and she slides in across from Ellie. Paul looks between the space between each of the girls, frowns slightly, then turns around and grabs a chair from the nearest table. He drags it to the end of the table and sits, leaving the girls alone on their booth benches. Ellie looks just as confused as she does. 

Paul shrugs. 

“I didn’t want you too feel ganged up on. Or hemmed in.” He states, like it’s obvious, and Aster softens. Ellie, too, looks like her puppy just performed a particularly endearing trick. They wait for the waiter to take their orders (three milkshakes- one with extra ready wip- and an extra large fries), before Paul starts.

“Uh, so, thanks for coming.” He swallows, looking nervous. Aster remembers how hard he’d found talking to her that last time they were here in the diner, and suspects he’s always a man of few words, date or no. “I wanted- we wanted- to say sorry. ” He looks at Ellie, who nods. They both look at Aster.

“I mean, to be honest, I don’t know if I need an apology, so much as an explanation. I believe you’re sorry, I do. I just don’t get why. Why didn’t you just talk to me, Paul? And you, Ellie- why get involved at all?” 

Both of them look down and shuffle in their seats. Aster isn’t sure she’s ready to hear from Ellie yet so she shifts in her seat to face Paul. He takes a huge sip of his drink, his face scrunching up.

“I thought I could make you happy.” He says, simply, before running his hand through his hair. “You always seemed sad. And I thought you were so kind, and smart, and- and pretty, and I thought I loved you.” 

Aster frowns. 

“Okay, so why didn’t you just talk to me?” She asks, and he looks down at his drink, a blush covering his cheeks. 

“I’m not, um, good. With word stuff. I wrote you a letter, but it was bad. Like so bad. And I knew Ellie was good at words, so I asked for her help. And then you replied, and I knew I couldn’t just go back to being dumb me, so I asked her to help more. I thought- I thought love was the effort you put in, but it’s more than that, right? It’s the truths you share, the trust you build. I got it wrong. I’m sorry.” 

Aster nods. She’s still not okay with his actions, but she can tell he didn’t mean to cause damage. It was an ill thought out plan by a boy who, Aster suspects, isn’t great at thinking things out. Ellie, on the other hand?

Ellie thinks everything out. She’s never not thinking. And Aster can’t figure out why she’d willingly take part in something like this; why she’d choose to deceive someone so fully. She looks at Paul, and gives him an understanding smile. 

“Okay. Thank you for explaining it. Maybe next time just….talk to the girl you like?” He breathes a sigh of relief and nods.

“Okay.” 

Then she turns to Ellie. Ellie, who is studiously looking down at her drink, avoiding eye contact. Ellie, who Aster is indescribably drawn to, and has been since they first met. Ellie who understands her like no one else has. Paul clears his throat, reaches out to squeeze Ellie’s arm briefly. 

“I’ll, uh, go look for some ketchup.” He stands, ignoring the full bottle in the table in order to give the girls some privacy. They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Ellie speaks. 

“Ironically, I wrote you a letter. On the train out of here.” She says, quietly, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. She glances up at Aster. “The only one I’ve never sent you. Can I read it?” 

Aster nods, and Ellie pushes her glasses back against her nose before she starts reading. 

“Dear Aster Flores, 

The truth is rarely pure, and never simple. This is not the first letter you’ve received from my hand, but it is the first- and likely last- one from me. I know you want to know why. And you deserve to know, too. But there are two truths to this story, a short and long one. A shallow excuse and the real one. Neither, I suspect, will excuse the actions, but they may at least explain them. We’ll start simply, short and shallow: 

I needed fifty dollars to pay a phone bill, and Paul offered me cash in advance. 

We could leave it at that, I suppose. 

But we won’t.

Instead, I’ll give you all I ever should have: the truth. In all its impure and complicated glory.

I wrote you, Aster Flores, because I wanted to.

Because I’d wanted to write you a love letter for four years, and this was the only way I knew you’d write back. 

Because love is selfish and messy. 

Because those letters were my only chance at a great painting, even if that painting wasn’t mine. 

Paul was right, that day in church. It’s really hard to pretend to be someone you’re not your whole life. And I’ve been pretending for a really, really long time. So when he asked me for help with a slightly different pretence, I didn’t just see more hiding. I saw a chance. I’d long since relegated love and a life bigger than this town to flights of fancy. My story was at the station in Squahamish, helping Ba, playing music at church for a god I don’t believe in. But Paul was so sure of himself, of his love for you, that I thought I could at least help him. (Maybe love isn’t always selfish). I thought that my words might make you see his heart, and maybe you’d at least be happier (or more interested) in him than Trig. That unlike me, you’d find something bigger than where you were.

...in the interests of full honestly, there was a microcosm of hope that my words would make you see my heart, that you’d miraculously see through the lies and know it was me, and we’d skip merrily to...tribeca. San Fransisco. Flights of fancy, remember? 

Instead, reality happened. A mess was made and I hurt two and betrayed people who I care very, very deeply about. The first friend I’ve ever made and almost the second one, too. 

The first friend’s forgiven me. 

And the second?

That part’s up to you. No rush- we did say a couple of years.

Yours in truth (and hope), 

Ellie Chu.”

Ellie finishes reading, folding the paper neatly back up and moves to put it back in her pocket when Aster’s hand snatches out to stop her. Ellie’s still not looking at her, but Aster stares her down until the girl’s eyes flick to hers, then back away. 

“It’s addressed to me, isn’t it?” She asks, quietly, and Ellie relents, handing the letter over. Aster stares down at the paper, the familiar handwriting just visible through the folds. 

“Thank you.” She says, quietly, staring down at the letter. Ellie still hasn’t moved. Aster looks back up, and sees that the tears forming in the eyes are matched in Ellie’s own. “I wish things had been easier for you in high school. For Paul, too. And me. That things had been different.” 

“Different.” Ellie says, and there’s a hint of bitterness to the tone. She takes a sip of her drink and when she puts the glass back down, her voice is more clear. “Me too, though. But things are better now, I think. For all of us.” 

Aster nods. “They are. I mean, you and I both have two whole friends now. I might even have three by the end of the week.” She says, tilting her head at Paul, who is clearly trying to work out whether he’s allowed back. Ellie’s shoulders slump in relief at the lighter note to Aster’s tone, and she nods. 

“True beacons of popularity. I’ll be right back, alright?” She says, sliding from the booth and giving Aster a slightly watery smile as she heads to the bathroom. Paul, seeing her leave, makes his way back over.

“Did it go okay? Is she ok?” He asks, and Aster nods. Things will be okay, she knows with sudden clarity. She’ll need to go home tonight and draw for several hours to process the fact that Ellie more or less just admitted her love for Aster. She's not even sure whether that love is past or present tense, or how she would feel about either of those options; but she knows that, regardless, she and Ellie will be okay. It’s the one thing she is sure about. 

“Yeah. Just got a bit heavy, for a second there. She’ll just need a second.” Aster explains, and Paul nods thoughtfully, before sliding into the seat their friend has just vacated. 

“So, I was thinking about what you said about just talking to a girl, next time, and I just wanted to ask- do you want to get coffee or something over the holidays?” Paul asks, smiling hopefully across at Aster. She blinks at him, momentarily confused. Is he asking her out,  _ again?  _ Has Ellie not told him about their kiss, and their current...situation? Was there anything to tell? Her mouth gapes awkwardly and Paul’s face quickly becomes stricken. 

“Oh, shoot, no, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable! I meant as a friend! To catch up properly and talk outside of this whole situation! Like, how is college, what are your classes, are you seeing anyone?” Paul looks so glum about his blunder, and Aster doesn’t really know what to say. Paul’s a nice guy, he is, and while it’s sweet he wants to be friends his barrage of questions surprises her. She’s not sure where to start.

“It’s complicated.” She finally settles with, and Paul blinks at her before giving her an authentic smile, happy at the news. 

“Oh, I didn’t see that on Facebook. Cool! So, how did you meet? Was it college? Is it a college romance?” He asks eagerly, his smile wide as though he wasn’t chasing after her for much of the last year. Aster just blinks at him in surprise over how genuinely pleased he seems for her. She’s about to correct him when Ellie slides back and Paul exclaims, 

“El, did you know Aster is dating someone from college? You didn’t tell me!” 

And Aster swears she can see a light in Ellie’s eyes go out. Ellie glances at Aster, just barely, then her shoulders straighten and she turns fully to Paul. Aster opens her mouth to correct him, say no, she’s categorically not seeing someone from college, no, Ellie please look at me again, but Ellie speaks before she gets a chance to. 

“No, she didn’t mention that. Paul, what were you saying about your new five spice mix earlier?” 

And just like that, Paul is off on a very excited tangent, and Aster just sits, frantically trying to catch Ellie’s gaze as Ellie just as frantically avoids Aster’s. Her jaw is clenched and Arter can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to piece together all their interactions over the past few months, so see if she’s missed something. 

You haven’t, Aster wants to scream, Paul just got excited and assumed , but every time she thinks she has an entrance Ellie will quickly ask Paul another question and he’ll excitedly go into even more detail about his sausages. 

“Ellie.” She tries, softly, but Ellie won’t look at her. Instead, the muscle of her jaw twitches and she leans towards Paul as if he’s discovered a deep philosophical principal, not the right ratio of spice. 

“Ellie, please.” She tries, again, but Ellie’s head shakes imperceptibly. Paul’s so enthused about his new recipe he hasn’t noticed Aster quietly trying to get his best friend’s attention. 

Finally, Aster cracks.

“Ellie !” She snaps, over the top of Paul, and the two friends instantly stop and turn to look at her. Well, Paul does. Ellie’s eyes are resolutely bearing into the wall behind Aster’s head.

“Sorry, Paul. I’m sure your seven spi-“

“Five!” They both correct, instantly, and Aster has to repress the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Five, sure, whatever, I’m sure it’s great, Paul, but I really just had to say-" She takes a breath, reels in her frustration. "I’m not dating anyone at college. You didn’t let me say yes or no.” Paul looks at her in confusion, and Ellie just slowly blinks, though she’s still not looking at Aster. 

“But I thought you said…” Paul starts, and Aster shakes her head.

“I just said it was complicated. Which it is. For me, anyway. I don’t know about them. But I have...stuff to work out. Some trust issues to work through.” She says, pointedly, and both parties across from her wince slightly. “Amongst other things. And I want to make sure I’m sure before I do anything about it. Although I’m pretty sure I am. Sure.” She adds, eyes flicking to Ellie quickly. 

“That’s too many sures for me to really understand. But...good?” Paul says, trying to work through her mess of a sentence before seemingly giving up. 

“My bad, though, Aster. I shouldn’t have assumed. I was just happy you were into someone after this whole mess, I guess I got too excited. I do that sometimes.” Paul shakes his head apologetically. “I’m sorry we messed with your trust, Aster. But if he’s a decent guy, he’ll wait till you’re ready. He’d be an idiot not to. Do you want to tell us about him?” 

“Her.” Aster corrects without thinking, and it’s not until Paul’s jaw drops open that she realises she’s said it. She tenses, waiting for a reaction, waiting for Paul to stand up and scream at her; for the fry cook to hurl a pan at her and kick her out of the restaurant, for the earth to open and swallow her up. None of that happens, though. Instead, Paul just closes his mouth, reaches out, and squeezes her hand. 

“Ah. Well, she’d be an idiot not to wait, then. And I want you to know that I- I’ll support you, no matter what, okay? Thank you for trusting us with this.” He says, softly, and Aster nods mutely at him, suddenly overcome with emotion. At the mention of us , she becomes suddenly very aware that Ellie hasn’t said anything during this whole exchange. 

Looking over, she sees that Ellie is finally looking at her. Her jaw twitches and her eyes are ablaze with a myriad of emotions that Aster can barely place. They stare at each other for long moments, unblinking, and then suddenly Paul just says, 

“Oh.”

Their heads both snap to him. He’s looking between them both, and Aster can see the pieces coming together. 

“Oh, no. Aster, I’m so sorry.” He says, but he’s smiling, and Aster’s face contorts to a look of confusion. 

“What?” She asks, nervous about his words and his grin and the way they don’t match, but his smile just gets wider. 

“I’m sorry. But I’ll have to take back what I said. The girl you like will definitely wait for you, but she’s also definitely an idiot.” He says, trying to keep a straight face. Aster gapes at him, though her mouth is lifting into a smile even as Ellie gasps and smacks him on the arm. 

“Hey!” Ellie cries, “what did I do?” 

“Oh, just moaned for months about how you’d messed things up, and you’d never see her again, how you didn’t have a chance, how you’d ruined everything. And she likes you too! And you didn’t even know! You’re more of an idiot than me, Ellie.” 

Ellie smacks him again, although it’s soft and she’s smiling. “And you’re a wussy.” She retorts, and then they’re laughing, guffawing at each other, heads bowed toward each other, and Aster can’t help but join them. Finally, she sobers. 

“Months, hm?” She teases, eyes twinkling, and Ellie throws a fry at her. Paul giggles. 

“Yeah, she went to see you at work for some last goodbye before she left, but then she came back all jittery and wouldn’t tell me what happened, which was ridiculous because we tell each other everything, and then she was moping around college for half the semester being sad about hurting you and ruining your fledging- not frenching, I learnt the word, Ellie- friendship, and then you wrote her and I worked for weeks to convince her you were trying to be friends, not just using her for study advice. Ellie, you’re so dumb. And I’m the dumb one.” 

Ellie thumps her head down onto the table. Aster snorts. 

Suddenly, something Paul said strikes her. 

“She didn’t tell you what happened when she came to say goodbye?” 

Paul shakes his head. “No, she was really weird about it. I gave up trying after a week, I figured you’d just slapped her too, or something.” 

Aster snorts again, because really ?

“Quite the opposite, actually. Ellie?” Ellie lifts her head, blinking sheepishly at them both.

“I didn’t want to say anything you didn’t want shared.” She says, shrugging. Aster melts. Ellie hadn’t told her best friend about her first (well, Aster thinks it was her first) kiss? One where she’s actually initiated the contact, not just the abortive surprise attempt from Paul? And she’d done it to protect Aster? Aster wants to leap over the table and hug her, but instead she just smiles over at Ellie and from the look Ellie’s giving her, she knows what Aster’s thinking. 

“I may have kissed Aster. A little.” She finally admits, glancing briefly to Paul before her eyes swing back to Aster. “And told her I’d see her in a couple of years, when she was sure.” 

Paul gasps, half in surprise, half in outrage. 

“You kissed the girl and didn’t tell me?! Ellie!” He shakes his head in disbelief, “And when she wrote you, you still thought you’d ruined things?” 

Turning to Aster, he shrugs apologetically. “See? An idiot.” Leaning forward, he lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Did you kiss back? Because if you did, I’m going to read her the riot act.” 

Aster opens her mouth to respond, half laughing, but before she can Ellie stands abruptly. 

“Nope. Nope. You two are not discussing me or my kissing. We’re leaving. Aster, drive me home? I’m not talking to Paul anymore.” She says, and Paul grumbles.

“Sure, that’s why you want her to drive you.” He stands, and wraps his arm around Ellie’s shoulder. “Your first real kiss. I’m proud of you, girl.”

Aster snorts as Ellie tries to shuffle out of his arms briefly before giving up, Paul just holding tight and giving Aster a pleased look over Ellie's head. Eventually, the girl in his arm relents, and gives him a small squeeze in response. They both burst in to laughter when they hear her sigh and mutter grumpily,

"Wussy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, folks. Our chapter title is from 'Girl From the Sidewalk by Noah Floersch', and paul is from our HEARTS am i right fam


	10. Of recklessness and water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Without those letters, I’d be married to Trig by now. Probably still working at the restaurant, content with my good painting. So yeah, on fire is a good word for it. You handed me the matches that set my world ablaze.” 

The drive back is mostly silent. Aster needs the quiet to sort through the bundle of information in her head, the emotional weight of the last hour slowly drifting down to sit on her shoulders. Ellie’s letter, Paul’s kindness, her verbal admission of being into a girl- there’s a lot swirling around in her brain and she’s not fussed by the quiet in the car allowing her to do it. Ellie, she suspects, needs the time as much as she does. 

She’s just turning into the station, about to pull the car into the spot by Ellie’s dad’s house, when there’s a warm hand gripping her arm softly. 

“Wait.” Ellie says, quietly, and Aster slows the car, glancing over at the other girl. Her face is half bathed in moonlight. 

“I think- I’m not sure I want to be entirely alone with my thoughts just yet. Can we go somewhere? Just to talk, or even just sit?” She sounds so nervous, and so unsure, and Aster heart melts. She nods, and Ellie gives a sigh of relief, hand releasing Aster’s arm as she begins turning the car. It doesn’t get far, though, because Aster reaches back out and takes her hand, settling them together between the seats as she begins the drive to a spot she knows they’ll both be able to sort out whatever’s whirling around between them. 

* * *

If the spring is beautiful during the day, it’s damn near ethereal at night. The stars glint off the surface of the water, the light of the moon illuminating the spot enough that Aster can easily pick her way between the rocks to the water’s edge without her phones’ flashlight. She sits by the edge of the water, letting her feet submerge in the warmth of the spring. The ground below her is cool and rough- she would have worn jeans instead of a dress had she known she’d end up here, this evening- but the warmth of the water is enough to keep her comfortable. Behind her, she can hear Ellie finding herself a comfortable spot by the rocks. 

They don’t speak, for a while. Ellie clearly has a lot on her mind, as well; and Aster’s pleased to have a moment to herself. She’d be lying if she said the other girl’s presence wasn’t comforting, though. She likes this, that they can just sit together without speaking, and it doesn’t feel wrong or uncomfortable. 

That’s how it’s always felt, with Ellie. Even through her letters, back when everything started. Aster hadn’t been lying when she said the letters made her feel _not safe_ \- they were absolutely dangerous in their power to unlock her deepest secrets, her need to escape this place, to be someone _more_. But there was a comfort in the words, too. Even when the letters first started she felt a sense of familiarity in the words she’d not felt with anyone. That was part of their danger, Aster supposed, the way they alerted her to the fact she could feel so much more than she did with Trig, with Paul in person. 

Sometimes, when she reads Ellie’s words now- the texts she sends late into the night when she’s read a particular piece of prose she wants Aster to read, or she’s got thoughts she needs to speak into existence before she can sleep- Aster wonders how she didn’t know earlier. How she didn’t pair the beautiful words from the letters with the quiet, thoughtful girl who single handedly gave most of the senior class their passing grades. She’d read Trig’s essays- the ones Ellie wrote. She knew how powerful the girl’s words were, how they could turn even the simplest of sentences into poetry in motion. 

She wonders how she didn’t notice it, even when it was staring right in front of her. Literally staring, that day at the spring; when Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off Aster and the dark voice in the back of Aster’s skull thought _whatifwhatifwhatif._ Thinking back at it now, she can’t help but snort at how obvious it should have been. 

“Hm?” Comes Ellie’s voice, from somewhere behind her. Aster tilts her face back to the moon, lets the light wash over her. 

“Barely repressed longing.” She says, voice slightly hoarse from sitting in silence for so long. She hears Ellie move, turn towards her maybe. 

“What?” 

“All that barely repressed longing. That’s how I should have known.” 

Ellie doesn’t respond straight away, and Aster shrugs into the semi-darkness. 

“Before the spring, in Paul’s bedroom. You saw my painting- really, properly saw it- and when you spoke, Ellie, you spoke like the letters. Something sparked, but it didn’t- and then at the spring, the way you talked, looked at me- barely repressed longing. I should have realised.” She says, and she hears movement again before she feels Ellie next to her, shoulders just brushing. They stare out at the water, feet gently causing ripples. 

“You did say it crossed your mind. I always wondered when.” 

“It did. Yeah. I almost said something, pressed it, tried to catch you out. But then the thought of you or Paul being that dishonest wiped it away again.”

Ellie’s hand reaches out, fingers searching, and Aster moves her hand to it. Their hands rest on the ground between them, fingers tangled. Ellie speaks, with just the hint of sarcasm. 

“You thought that the girl who wrote essays for other people for profit, and the guy actively pursuing his friend’s girlfriend were the beacons of honesty?”

Aster snorts. “Fair point. But compared to most people in this town….yes.”

She considers her words. “Maybe not honest. But sincere. That’s how I could pretend the letters _were_ from Paul, when human him and letter him were so different- they were so sincere. When Paul speaks about something he cares about, he’s _so_ passionate, _so_ sincere in what he’s saying. The letters were like that, too. Just about different topics. So I didn’t let myself think too hard about it. Because Paul was - _is_ \- safe. I can bring him home to mom and papi and yeah, he’s not as rich as Trig but he’s stable, he’s appropriate, and who cares if he can’t speak to me in person if he writes letters that set me on _fire_.” 

Aster takes a slightly shaky breath. “I couldn’t let myself catch you, that day at the spring, because then Paul wasn’t the one writing those letters and he wasn’t the one I- ” 

She cuts herself off. She’s not quite ready to say it to Ellie, yet, even though she’d pretty well acknowledged her feelings for the girl earlier that evening. Ellie’s thumb brushes over her knuckles, understanding. 

“On fire?” Ellie asks, softly. Aster nods. 

“The story of my life is pretty simple to summarise. Born in Sacramento, moved here. A pretty little footnote in the life of someone else. Deacon’s daughter. Trig’s girlfriend. And I’d resigned myself to that. I was lucky, right? That Trig had chosen me, that daddy approved, that I was set for life and I’d want for nothing. But then I started getting those letters and I _ignited.”_ She scoffs. 

“Look at me now. I’m in art school. My roommate is _definitely_ a sinner, but she’s my best friend. I’ve gotten drunk- more than once! And I’m- I’m bisexual.” 

Her third bold stroke is quieter than she’d anticipated, yet no less beautiful. The wind rustles through the trees, Ellie’s hand stays in hers, the world keeps turning. Aster blinks. She did it. She spoke the words into existence, and yet the world around her stays unchanged. She lets herself sit with the feeling, the accomplishment and pride mostly outweighing the sheen of fear pumping through her blood. 

“Without those letters, I’d be married to Trig by now. Probably still working at the restaurant, content with my good painting. So yeah, on fire is a good word for it. You handed me the matches that set my world ablaze.” 

Ellie turns to face her then, skin pale in the moonlight. Her smile is rueful and her eyes look watery behind her glasses. 

“Well...you’re welcome.” She says, and Aster meets her smile, their grins growing bigger until they’re laughing. The noise rings out through the trees and Aster doesn’t know exactly what she’s laughing about, she just knows she feels free, free and happy and alive. Her eyes open and Ellie is still laughing, eyes closed, and Aster’s laughter dies away as an evil smile settles on her face. 

“There’s one more thing I need before you’re fully forgiven, though.” She says, and Ellie opens her eyes, laughter fading as she waits for Aster’s words. Her smile slides off her face when she sees the look in Aster’s eyes. 

“Wha-“ She starts, but it’s too late. Aster’s already reached out, hands firmly pushing Ellie into the water. 

“ _Revenge.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Nightswimming by R.E.M. 
> 
> I've just realised I didn't mention- hAlf these songs are from the excellent playlist Alice Wu made for her character, and you should check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ByOMNiZQD7KgWyn3jrZhP?si=TTu9UkSeRYWd8fFokLNw4w


	11. well come on and break the door down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, girl. You’ve got it bad.”

They don’t kiss that night.

They swim and laugh and lie in the water, but Aster can’t bring herself to bridge that gap and Ellie, though her gaze does drop down to Aster’s lips more than once, is clearly waiting until Aster’s ready. 

It’s as sweet as it is frustrating. 

Because Aster is ready, she _is._ She wants to kiss Ellie, wants to feel the girl’s lips against hers again- she thinks about how they’d felt the first time and she wants to check if they’re as soft as she remembers, as warm and perfect against hers. But she just can’t imagine herself being the one to close the gap between them, to pull Ellie against her and never let her go. If she’s being honest with herself, Aster’s scared. 

She’s scared she’ll mess it up, that kissing girls is different from kissing guys, that Ellie will realise she wants someone more experienced, more sure of herself. That she doesn’t want Aster after all, that this was just some high school crush that’s actually underwhelming. 

She’s scared that if she kisses Ellie, she won’t be able to stop. 

So they don’t kiss that night and they don’t kiss the next day either and they definitely don’t kiss the day after that, when she spends the morning in church with her family, trying not to think _too_ hard about Ellie when Jesus is _right there_ , staring down at her from his cross; or later that afternoon when she’s squished in the cab of Paul’s truck, Ellie pressed up against her, on their way to a farmer’s market to try and sell some of his sausages. 

That doesn’t stop her from thinking about it, though. Every second she’s with Ellie she’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of what different parts of the girl might feel like, taste like; to the point where she has to physically shake herself out of definitely-not platonic daydreams and back to the present. She remembers those first few heady months with Trig, when she’d relished his broad hand on her back, his arm casually wrapped over her shoulder, his slight stubble against her mouth. She’d liked kissing him, sure, but she can’t remember the deep sense of craving she has now. It’s like something inside of her unlocked that night at the spring; that by admitting to Ellie and herself that she was attracted to girls that all those years of latent attraction arrived in _full force._

“Is this what it’s like being a teenage boy?” She laments to Kate over facetime that night, and Kate laughs, long and hard. 

“Oh, girl. You’ve got it _bad._ ” She says, cackling, and Aster just hums in agreement. She’d called Kate the day after the spring, spilling everything that had been building inside her over the last few months (years, really). Kate had been just as wonderful as she’d promised all those months ago when she’d left the post-it on Aster’s bed; and had instantly, without an ounce of pause or judgment, launched into questions about Ellie. Since then she’s been requesting near constant updates from Aster- _“not just because I care, babe, but also because Shane bet me $20 you wouldn’t kiss her before the end of the week.”_

“What do I _do_ , Kate?” She asks, and Kate just laughs again, amusement clear in her eyes.

“Uh, kiss her?” She says, like it’s obvious. Aster supposes it probably is. 

“Ugh. You’re no help. What if she doesn’t want me? Or she thin-”

“I’m going to stop you mid-panic, sweetie. First of all, this is the girl who has admitted to being into you for what, four years? Plus- you’ve already kissed! And she’s still around. I think- hang on, wait, Shane wants to say something..” There’s some muffled sounds and Kate is forced out of the frame by Shane’s smiling face. His deep voice is a stark contrast to Kate’s calm tone, but there’s the same tone of fondness laced in his words. 

“Aster! Have you _seen_ you? You are mad hot, girl. I thought Kate was the hottest girl I knew, but you come a close sec- _ow!_ I said second!” He says, rubbing his arm where Kate’s hand had flown out, before the camera is turned back to her. 

_“Thank you_ , Shane. But he’s right. You _are_ mad hot. Now, don’t you have a party tonight? Dress up and get your girl, Flores.” 

“Yeah, and win me my $20!” She hears Shane call from off camera, and she’s still smiling at them as she hangs up the phone. 

* * *

Aster’s a ball of trepidation as she walks into the party. It’s some friend of Paul’s- one of the football team’s- birthdays, and she knows most of their graduating class will be there. About half of them left for college when she did but just like her, they’re back for the holidays- though, looking around at the party, they’re seemingly happy to be home. With the exception of Ellie, Paul, and her baby sister, Aster can’t say the same. 

Still she squares her shoulders as she looks around the room, sure there’s at least one mildly friendly face in the crowd. Most of her ‘friends’ throughout high school were actually just Trig’s friends, and the few she called her own she knew were only nice to her for their own social advancement. Ellie had once said she lived at the peak of mount popularity, and she wasn’t _wrong_ , technically, but Aster had never been there by her own right. All her social credit had come down to her boyfriend, and as Aster looks around the room and sees a sea of faces barely acknowledging her, she’s never felt that fact more keenly. 

Making her way through to the kitchen, she helps herself to the collection of spirits spread across the counter. Ellie had texted soon after she’d arrived outside, saying they were on their way. Aster decides to pass the time by drinking and making idle small talk with those who enter the kitchen with the same idea. 

She’s two drinks in, and in the middle of a half-hearted catch up with a couple of guys from choir when she sees them enter. Well, she sees Paul, who stands roughly half a head above most people in the room. Ellie, she assumes, is somewhere with him. Brightening, Aster fills up her cup, as well as one for Ellie- she knows Paul is driving- and says her goodbyes to the boys she’d been chatting with. She’s about halfway towards the door when an arm snakes out to stop her, the drinks in her hand spilling slightly over her fingers. 

“Aster?” Says the voice, and she looks up in surprise to see Trig looking down at her. 

“Trig. Hey.” She says, ignoring the cool stickiness of the drinks on her fingers in order to look him over. He looks exactly as he had done when she’d last seen him, a few days after graduation. He’d arrived at her door with a bouquet of flowers and an engagement ring, eyes full of hope and forgiveness; and had left half an hour later with both items and downcast, tearstained eyes. They hadn’t spoken since. “You look well.” 

“Thanks!” He says, brightening, and then takes one of the cups from her hands. “Thanks for this, too. You didn’t have to bring me one. Thirsty work, catching up with everyone, right? I can’t believe how great it is to see everyone, you know?” 

He’s trying to be positive, and polite, but Aster can’t bring herself to muster the enthusiasm. She manages a shrug, taking a long gulp of her drink. “I guess. Look, Trig, I-” 

She’s about to say she has to leave, has to go find Ellie and Paul, but he cuts her off.

“It’s okay, As. You don’t have to apologise. Honestly, I think you made the right call. We were together for so long, and we needed a chance to work out who we were apart. I get that.” He says, sincerely. Aster blinks up at him in surprise and he gives her a wide smile, his dimple out in full force. She used to _love_ that dimple, she thinks dully. Now she just wants to poke it back into his dumb face. Or something. 

She takes another sip of her drink, though there’s a voice in the back of her head wondering if she’s _maybe_ had enough already. She’s tipsy at the very least. She shoves the thought away, along with the one about Trig’s dimple, and tries to tune back in to what he’s saying. 

“...and then it’s like, I run into you here, right? Like God _knew_ you’d be here. Like he knows we’re ready now. And with what your dad said, about you only needing a semester away and now you’re back to your senses and ready to say yes, it’s like, _wow_ , you know? I can’t believe I almost didn’t come tonight. God really has a path for us, huh?” He asks, smiling at her contentedly. The hand not holding his drink comes up to brush a strand of hair off her face, and Aster barely steps back in time to dodge it. 

“Uh, Trig, I think you’ve maybe-” She starts, but then he’s leaning forward, lips already forming into a pucker and Aster’s stepping back again, her arm coming up block him, anything to get his mouth away from hers when suddenly there’s a person between them, hands forcefully pushing Trig away. 

“Dude, _no_.” Ellie says, firmly, and Trig jerks back in surprise. 

“Huh?” He asks, confused, and Aster can’t help but let out a slightly crazed laugh. She finishes her drink, leaning around Ellie- who is glaring up at Trig like the world’s most endearing attack dog- to hand the empty cup to him. He looks down at it and back up at her, and she gives him a consolidatory pat on the shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Trig. But I meant what I said. I’m not going to marry you. Not then, not now, not ever. You’ll make a girl a _great_ husband one day, but I’m not that girl. Okay?” She grabs Ellie’s hand, noticing it’s balled up into a fist. “Have a great life, Trig. I mean that.” 

Pulling at Ellie, she leaves her ex-boyfriend, ex _almost_ fiance standing by himself, and drags the girl away from the party, up the stairs and down the hall where the music is quieter. Ellie is quiet as she follows along, Aster opening and closing doors in search of a bathroom. Finally, she finds one, pulling them in and closing the door. Releasing Ellie’s hand, she moves to wash her own drink-sticky ones in the sink, before looking up and catching Ellie’s eyes in the mirror. 

“My hero.” She says, happily, and Ellie just gives her a half smile in return. It doesn’t reach her eyes, though, and Aster turns, her brow furrowing in concern. 

“El? What’s wrong?” She asks, quickly wiping her hands dry and making her way towards Ellie, who’s leaning against the door, not quite meeting her eyes. She stops in front of Ellie, who just shakes her head slightly. 

“It’s stupid.” Says the girl, but Aster shakes her head, reaching up to gently touch Ellie’s face, urging the girl to look at her. When she does so, Ellie’s eyes are ablaze. 

“It’s not stupid.” Aster promises, though she doesn’t know what Ellie’s thinking. She just knows that nothing Ellie ever thinks is stupid. Ellie’s jaw clenches slightly.

“I just...didn’t like seeing him like that. With you.” She says, finally, and Aster smiles. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I would have pushed him off myself if you hadn’t beaten me to it. He wouldn’t have tried anything else.” She says, and it’s true. Trig is useless, but he’s not a complete asshole. Mostly.

“I don’t like that he tried at all.” Ellie grumbles, looking away, and Aster laughs in disbelief, because- 

“Are you _jealous?_ ” She asks, beaming, moving imperceptibly closer to Ellie, her hands something to grip at the opening of the girl’s jacket. Ellie scoffs, but she flushes furiously. 

“What? No. Jealousy is- it’s lame!” She argues, and Aster laughs, positively thrilled at Ellie’s clear embarrassment. 

“Oh, _baby._ You have nothing to be jealous of.” She says, fondly, reaching to cup Ellie’s cheek. She doesn’t even notice the pet name slipping out of her mouth until she sees Ellie’s eyes widen. Aster realises, then, how close they are. She can see each perfect detail of Ellie. Aster’s hand is tangled in her jacket, the other still cupping her beautiful, _beautiful_ , face. 

“ _Ellie,”_ she whispers, and then she’s leaning forward, unable to stop herself any longer. Her hand fists in Ellie’s jacket as she leans in, eyes fluttering closed as her lips come into contact with Ellie’s…

_cheek?_

Her eyes open in confusion. Ellie has turned her head to the side, and Aster’s lips are firmly pressed against her cheek. She kisses again, lightly, because Ellie’s skin _is_ soft, before moving her lips to the corner of Ellie’s mouth, her hand still on Ellie’s other cheek. 

“Ellie.” She repeats, softly, trying to work out where she’s gone wrong, but Ellie’s eyes are screwed shut and she doesn’t turn her head toward Aster’s. Instead, her hand comes up to cup Asters, and she moves her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Aster’s palm. It barely tampers Aster’s rising panic that she was right, that Ellie doesn’t want her, or that she’s changed her mind, or that-

“You’re drunk.” Ellie speaks, whispers against her skin, and Aster pulls back slightly to frown. What does that have to do with anything? Ellie turns to face her now there’s some space between them. “I don’t want this to happen when you’re drunk. I don’t want you to- to regret anything. Or forget it.” She explains, and she looks so nervous, so unsure, that Aster’s heart breaks. 

“I could never forget you, Ellie Chu.” She says, pressing her forehead softly against Ellie’s. “Not a moment. Or regret it. But you’re right.” 

She pulls her hand off Ellie’s face, brings it around to the back of her neck. She can feel Ellie’s warm skin beneath her hand and she has to remind herself _not_ to lean in, that Ellie does have a very good, very sensible point. Still, she pouts. 

“I kind of hate that you’re right.” She admits, softly, and Ellie gives a rueful laugh. Aster can feel the breath against her lips and it takes everything in her not to surge forward. 

“Trust me, I kind of hate it too.” Ellie’s hands have drifted down to Aster’s waist at some point, and Aster wonders how it would feel to have those hands warm against her bare skin. Having Ellie’s mouth so close to hers is too distracting so she shifts, burying her head into Ellie’s neck. 

“I was actually on my way to bring you a drink when I ran into Trig. Maybe we should just get you drunk, too.” She suggests, mouth barely grazing the warm skin of Ellie’s neck. She feels Ellie shiver, and smiles as Ellie’s hands flex against her hips. 

“No.” Says Ellie, her voice gravelly. Aster pulls back to see Ellie looking at her with so much heat she might implode. One of Ellie’s hands strokes lightly down Aster’s face, thumb just tracing her lips. “I want to be sober for this. I’ve been waiting for years, Aster Flores. I think I can wait a little longer.”

Aster can’t help the whine she releases at the words- and Ellie’s tone. She cannot get sober fast enough. Still, being in this confined space alone with Ellie is too dangerous, so she places a lingering kiss to Ellie’s check before stepping back.

“Come on. Walk me home?” Ellie looks at her, suspicious. Aster rolls her eyes. “The walk will sober me up. You can crash at mine.” Ellie still looks suspicious. “Oh my _God_ , I’ll take the floor! I’ll be good. Promise.” 

Ellie doesn’t look fully convinced, but she allows Aster to pull her away from the door and down the stairs. In the back of her head, Aster is aware that her parents might not be _thrilled_ to see Ellie in their home, after her scene at the church. Aster has still not explained Ellie’s exact involvement, of course, but her dad definitely blames his now _least_ favorite heathen in part for her relationship breakdown with Trig. They’d be asleep at this hour, though, and Aster would just sneak Ellie out in the morning, when her parents were on their daily jog. Teenagers snuck people in and out of their bedrooms all the time, right? Sure, maybe she was a bit late to the game, but it was never too late to start rebelling. Kate would be so proud. 

* * *

It’s not a particularly long walk back to Aster’s place. Maybe fifteen minutes on a normal day, but the girls aren’t in any particular rush. They take their time along the streets of Squahamish, pointing out houses and spots that hold particular memories- Ellie’s first skinned knee, the spot where the moving truck got a flat tire when Aster’s family arrived in town, and, most notably, the main strip, where Ellie kissed her, all those months ago.

“My bold stroke of Squahamish.” Ellie muses as they pass, walking down the middle of the street, fingers entwined. No one is driving at this hour; and the lights of the shop fronts have long since gone out. 

“Yeah?” Aster glances at her. Ellie nods, moonlight illuminating the street for them. They pause for a second, lost in thought. Then, Aster tugs lightly and Ellie allows herself to be pulled in, so Aster can loop her arm through Ellie’s and move in closer. 

“Cold?” She asks, noticing Aster’s shiver. Aster nods, and Ellie moves to take off her jacket. 

“See? This is why we layer.” She says haughtily, handing the item over to Aster, who gratefully pulls it on. “Your fault for wearing a _dress_ in this weather, though. It was freezing today.” She teases, pulling Aster back towards her. Aster doesn’t miss the way her eyes travel up her legs as she does so, though. It’s not the first time she’s noticed Ellie checking her out. A pleased smile on her lips, she leans her head momentarily on Ellie’s shoulder to hide it as they continue walking. 

“Well, I have you to blame for that.” 

Ellie glances at Aster. 

“Me? What did I do?” She asks, confused, and Aster smirks. She tilts her head towards Ellie’s as she slows them to a stop, her lips ghosting the shell of Ellie’s ear. 

“Because I like the way you look at me when I wear them.” She murmurs. “I’ve been freezing my ass off all week because of the way you look at me, Ellie.” This time it’s Ellie’s turn to shiver, and not from the cold. 

“How I look at you?” She asks, half dazed, and Aster can’t help but press a kiss just under her ear. 

“Like you want me. Like you want to see more.” _Bold_ , the voice in her head whispers, and Aster smiles against Ellie’s skin. “We’re here, by the way.” 

She steps back and gestures to the house they’ve stopped in front of. Ellie looks mildly shell shocked, and Aster pulls lightly at her hand. “Are you going to come in?” 

Ellie looks between Aster and the house, teeth worrying her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know.” She admits, quietly. “If I come inside, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself. Or you.” She adds, swatting Aster’s hands away, which have made their way to the lapel of Ellie’s flannel. Aster laughs quietly. 

“Fair. What if I told you I was sober, now?” Aster asks, and Ellie looks warily at her. Aster’s face turns serious. “I’m not going to lie to you about that _just_ to kiss you, Ellie. I promise you, I’m sober. And we don’t even have to kiss, if you don’t want. We can wait. I meant it, I’ll take the floor. I just like being near you.” 

Ellie just looks at her for a couple of seconds, before she breathes out slowly. 

“I think we’ve waited long enough.” She says, so quietly that Aster barely catches it before Ellie’s lips are _finally_ on hers. 

Ellie tastes like diet coke and the five (not seven) spice she and Paul had been cooking with before the party and Aster can’t help the sound that escapes her as Ellie’s hands tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. Aster’s hands grip Ellie’s lapels tight, keeping her as close as possible. She feels just like she did last time, just like Aster’s been imagining more and more over the past months- soft lips and warm hands and her glasses lightly pushing against Aster’ nose- but it’s even better because this time it’s not a goodbye, the closing of a chapter; it’s a beginning, the beginning of a truly beautiful painting. 

Eventually, they pull back. They don’t move any further apart, though, just stand close to one another, breathing each other in. 

  
“Finally.” Ellie mutters, and Aster can’t help but laugh in agreement because _yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuckin GAY SHIT
> 
> The title song is Talkshow Host by radiohead


	12. My first lover shared my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But she knows, too, that she can’t leave this room without telling him the truth. Without painting her next bold stroke, no matter how painful the consequences. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for homophobia, religious fuckery, and slutshaming behaviour

Aster wakes up early the next morning with an arm wrapped around her waist and only a slight headache. Glancing at the clock, she’s relieved it’s still early- she’s got time yet before her parents wake up and leave, which means she can stay here with Ellie just a little longer. 

They’d finally gotten to Aster’s bedroom- they’d needed to pause by the front door _and_ in the stairway to make out, because once they’d started it seemed near impossible to stop- and silently clambered into bed once they’d changed into the pyjamas Aster had scrounged for them. They’d laid awkwardly side by side, cramped in Aster’s single bed, when finally Ellie had muttered,

“You really _do_ have classic bone structure.” And both girls had collapsed into a fit of giggles, Aster pulling the blanket over their head so they wouldn’t be heard by the rest of the house. 

“Shhh,” She’d warned, head already tilting towards Ellie, who barely had time to whisper, “make me.” before their lips had cashed together once again. Sleep had taken a while to come after that, the two happy to spend the time in far more practical ways. They’d kept things fairly tame- clothes stayed firmly on, and their hands only wandered minimally- Aster doubts either of them were quite ready for more, but she's fairly sure she’ll have at least _one_ hickey forming on her neck by now. 

Groaning quietly, she slides out of bed, leaving a still sleeping Ellie to rest. She glances at herself in the mirror- as she’d suspected, her neck is a mottled collection of brown and purple. Rolling her eyes, she glances back at the sleeping figure in her bed and can’t bring herself to feel too much regret. She tiptoes downstairs so as to not wake anyone, heading directly for the first aid kit on top of the fridge for painkillers. 

“You got in late.” 

Her father’s voice cuts through the silence, and Aster hears it tear through the happy haze she’s been in since she woke up. 

“ _Papi,_ you’re up early,” She starts, turning. She’s very aware suddenly of her exposed neck, quickly bringing her hair forward to cover the marks she’s sure are there. It’s too late. Her father’s voice is quiet but there’s a venom to it that strikes fear to Aster’s core. 

“I had hoped when I heard you outside that maybe Trig had found you, convinced you to come back to the right path. He’s a good and proper boy, a real catch. I even forgave it when I heard you bring him inside, because I know you’re a good girl, Aster, and you and Trig know what is right. In three years you’ve never strayed to sin. But that _mark_ your neck is very disappointing, young lady. I don’t care if you’re marrying him, that’s no way to behave. Especially not in my house. Go and wake him, hija, as we will have to talk about this clear disrespect, for my house rules _and_ for the Lord.” Aster’s rendered mute. Not only does her father know someone’s up there, but he thinks it’s _Trig?_

 _“_ Dad, I-” 

“Now, young lady.” Her father demands, his voice raising, and Aster flinches. She’s about to do as he says, go up and get Ellie and wonder what the _fuck_ to do before he comes up to get them anyway when a sleepy voice behind her asks, 

“Aster? What’s going on?” 

And Aster can see the cogs turning in her father’s head. Aster, hickeys all over her neck. Ellie Chu, heathen, standing at the entrance of the hallway, rubbing sleep out of her eye, wearing the pyjamas the good Deacon Flores had bought his daughter for her sixteenth birthday. Aster moves, instinctively, in front of Ellie to protect her from whatever outburst her father has. But instead, he breaks into a smile. 

“Ellie? You’re who came in with my sweet girl last night? Oh, praise the lord.” The Deacon says, rising, and Ellie visibly gulps. The Deacon doesn’t notice, though, too busy smiling at them both.

“I had thought Aster and Trig had fallen into some...trouble, but I’m glad to see it was just a friend seeing her safely home. Thank you, Ellie, for making sure my daughter didn’t make any more mistakes than she evidently did last night.” He continues, barely glancing at Aster. “I know you initially disagreed with my daughter’s nuptials but I’m glad to see you’re looking out for her. Now, why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll drive you home. Your father is still at the station, yes?” 

Ellie looks between Aster and her father. The Deacon is smiling at her, whereas Aster has almost completely folded in on herself, staring resolutely at the ground as though the months of progress she’d made in college have just been swept away. 

“You, Aster, will wait here. We still need to talk about your behaviour. You will not always have friends like Ellie Chu to save you, young lady. I will not have you engaging in shallow illusions of intimacy, do you understand me? I don’t care how much you and Trig love each other.” 

Ellie doesn’t move. Aster can see her in her periphery, glancing at Aster as if waiting for a cue. She glances to the side, head still bowed, and gives a small nod. 

“Yes, papi. I’ll go and get dressed.” She says, following Ellie upstairs. Once in her room, Ellie turns, arms outstretched toward Aster, but Aster sidesteps her. 

“Not _now_ , Ellie. I don’t really need you all over me right now, you’ve done enough.” She says harshly, gesturing at her neck, as she moves through the room towards Ellie’s clothes. “I never should have let you stay over. This was a mistake.” 

“As, he doesn’t know anything. Just tell him they’re...bruises?” It’s weak, even to Ellie’s ears, but she still flinches at Aster’s scoff. 

“Bruises? Great. Thanks, Ellie.” She’s being short, she knows that, but she also knows the glower in her father’s eyes and she needs Ellie out of this house, _now_ , before it all comes crumbling down. She’s bending over to hastily pull a new shirt out of her bag when Ellie’s arms snake around her. She tenses, tries to push Ellie away, but the girl doesn’t budge. She can feel Ellie’s forehead pressed against the back of her neck and despite her every instinct screaming at her to push Ellie far, far away, she feels herself relaxing slightly in the embrace. 

“ _Breathe.”_ The command is whispered, but she does so. Once, twice, Ellie breathing in sync with her. The arms loosen but don’t let go. “What can I do to help you?” Ellie asks, and Aster sighs, turning around and burying her face briefly into the crook of Ellie’s neck, taking in the scent before stepping back. 

“Right now I just need you to go, okay? I need to sort this out. I’ll call you.” Aster desperately wants to look at Ellie, meet her eyes, give her some semblance of comfort that she will, in fact, call, but she can’t. Instead she grabs her clothes and locks herself in the bathroom to change. 

By the time she’s out and coming downstairs, she can hear Ellie at the front door. 

“No, no, it’s okay Mr- Father Flores, Paul was already going to pick me up, it’s no bother, really. I’ll just wait outside, he’ll be here in just a moment. Tell Aster I’ll see her soon. Okay, bye!” She calls, and Aster can see her looking over the Deacon’s shoulder trying to get a final glimpse at Aster before the door closes. She takes a quick step back on the stairs to stay out of Ellie’s view, taking a deep breath before stepping into the landing. 

“Aster. Sit.” Her father says, gravely. Aster does as she’s told, taking a seat on the couch opposite him with her hands folded primly in her lap. She’s covered up her neck, which her father glances at with approval, before he starts to speak. 

“I’m worried about you, hija.” He begins, and though his tone is soft Aster can hear the disappointment laced in it. “You throw away your relationship with a good man, you disappear to college. I thought to myself maybe she just needs some time, some space to pursue a silly interest before coming back to the real world. But the weeks go by and you barely call, you never mention going to services up there, and now when you’re back you spend all your time with the Chu girl and young Mr. Munsky? And I think to myself it’s okay, she just needs a push back in the right direction, to remember the life He has intended for us.” 

Her father reaches to his neck and instinctively pats the cross hanging from it as he speaks. Aster resists the urge to do the same, though she can feel her own cross burning heavy against her skin. 

“So I talk to Trig, I tell him you’re ready to come home, I convince him to take a chance on you again. And I’m glad, sweetie, I really am, that you’re back together- honestly, I couldn’t hope for a better match- but coming back so late, far after curfew? With those- those _things_ on your neck like a _ramera_? No, Aster, it will not do. Whether you’re marrying him or not, it’s just not appropriate.” 

Aster knows what she should do. She knows how this should go. She knows to just sit, agree, let him speak; to behave the way he’s raised her. If she does that then she can wait out the last few days here, ride out the lie until she leaves and explain on her way back to Minneapolis that no, sorry, she’s changed her mind about the engagement again, but by then it won’t matter because she’ll have already left back to college and she won’t have to come back here again. All she has to do is sit, agree. 

Instead, she finds herself muttering, just loud enough for her father to hear, 

“I’m not marrying Trig.” She doesn’t look up as she says it, doesn’t want to see the look on his face as he computes what she’s saying. “We’re not back together.” 

There’s a beat, for a few moments. Then, 

“Then who, Aster? Who have you let so close to you, so easily and quickly? Please tell me things are at least serious with the boy.” His voice is close to stricken, like he can’t bear the thought of his daughter allowing someone to touch her that she’s not at least considering _marrying_. Like he’s failed in some way. She can’t wait to hear his reaction to her next words. 

“It was Ellie. Ellie Chu. And I’d say I’m pretty damn serious about her, yeah.” And it’s true. They haven’t had a conversation about where they stand- a night of kissing didn’t necessarily _mean_ anything official, particularly not if they're about to return to schools hours apart- but that doesn’t stop the way she feels about Ellie, the adrenaline and adoration that courses through her bloodstream at the mere _thought_ of the girl. She’d felt that way before last night, before the spring even. Somewhere along the road between starting college and now, Aster suddenly realises, she’s become fully, _seriously_ , enamoured with Ellie. Together or not, that won’t change. 

“ _Aster.”_ Her father’s voice is harsh, angry. “Do not joke about those things. I didn’t raise you in this way.” 

Aster gives a bitter scoff, her eyes finally lifting to meet her father’s. He didn’t raise her to have the life she needs to lead, she suddenly realises. She’s known for a long while now that Squahamish, this place, these people- it’s not the life for her. It never was going to be. But she knows, too, that she can’t leave this room without telling him the truth.

Without painting her next bold stroke, no matter how painful the consequences. 

“Papi. I’m not joking. I’m trying to tell you- no, I _am_ telling you- I’m bi. Bisexual. Do you know what that means?” She asks, staring at her father. And as she stares, she can see the exact moment that she stops being his daughter and starts being a stranger in his home. His gaze hardens and his hand once again finds his cross. 

“It means you’re _damned_.” He says, suddenly standing, and Aster stands too, if only so he can’t tower over her quite as much. “Get out.” 

Aster wishes she could say that she didn’t see it coming. She wishes that seeing it coming would ease the sharp pain she feels as he says it. She doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, though. 

“Gladly.” She hisses, shouldering past him and to the front door. 

“You will lead a miserable life if you do this, Aster.” Her father warns, and when Aster turns she sees he’s holding his pocket bible, fingers already rustling through the pages as he seeks out the right passage. 

Opening the door, she takes one last look back at him.

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.” She says, quietly, and he stops what he’s doing, looking up at her in angry shock. “I’ll have a miserable life if I don’t do this, dad. Enjoy the fire and brimstone, but I think God’s got a better plan for me than this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is by Jake Wesley Rogers, from 'Jacob From the Bible'
> 
> ramera = harlot in spanish. Aster's dad's a DICK 
> 
> The bible reference is John 4:7-21.


	13. Three roads, one light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She stops, opens her mouth to yell at this idiot driver almost running her over when the doors open on each side of the truck and out come two people she didn’t know she needed more than anything to see until they’re there, in front of her, closing the distance just in time for Aster’s legs to give out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> paul munsky. that is all.

Aster can’t quite see where she’s going when she leaves the house. Tears are blurring her vision when she turns, marching vaguely toward the house she’d left her car at last night. She wraps her arms around herself in some mediocome of a hug, and she wills herself to walk faster as the distance between herself and her parent’s home disappears. She’s almost at the end of the street when a truck pulls suddenly in front of her, blocking off her exit. 

She stops, opens her mouth to yell at this _idiot_ driver almost running her over when the doors open on each side of the truck and out come two people she didn’t know she needed more than anything to see until they’re there, in front of her, closing the distance just in time for Aster’s legs to give out. 

She buries her head into the crook of Ellie’s neck, arms still wrapped protectively around herself as Ellie’s arms wrap around her waist, keeping her steady. Paul’s arms reach the entire way around both girls, holding them both close. He’s whispering something, voice low and steady, and while Aster can’t make it out it’s enough to make her let go completely. 

“He said I was _damned._ ” Is all she gets out before a violent sob escapes her, one then another, but the two of them just hold her close; keep her upright as she releases all the pain and anger of not just this morning but of an entire life spent being held down by the people she’d thought were meant to love and support her no matter what. 

They stand there like that for a long while, until Aster’s sobs subside slightly and she wriggles in their grip, releasing her arms to return Ellie’s embrace; one of her arms coming up behind Ellie to grip at Paul’s arm, too. Eventually, she pulls her head back just enough to speak. 

“Can we go somewhere? I don’t care where.” She says, and she feels Paul shift and pull back. 

“We can go to mine. Everyone’s at work or out, and there’s always food.” He gives her a soft smile. “Food makes everything better. Come on, you can try a taco sausage.” He pulls away from the girls, heading back to the truck to start the engine and give them a moment alone. Aster stays in Ellie’s embrace a moment longer. 

“I shouldn’t have agreed to stay, I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hears Ellie whisper, but she shakes her head, pulling back and cupping Ellie’s face in her own. The warmth of Ellie’s skin under hers travels through her body. 

“I made those choices too, Ellie. I put myself in that position. But this is not our fault. A wise woman once told me there was absolutely nothing wrong with this, and that no one who really matters will judge me for it.” Ellie gives a sad smile, but nods. “If my father can’t see that this is who I am, and that that’s okay, well- that’s on him. I have- I have you, and Paul, Kate and Shane, I have _me_. I can do this. I’ll call mom later and see where she stands, but right now I just want to be anywhere but on this street, okay?” 

She leans forward and places a quick, soft kiss on Ellie’s lips. “Thank you for waiting. You didn’t have to.” 

“I did. I knew you’d need some level of support regardless of what happened, and Paul was happy to wait. We had to know you were okay.” Ellie squeezes her tighter, and Aster pecks her lips once more before pulling back completely. 

“Come on, I want to try this famous sausage. I am its muse, afterall.” 

* * *

They’re midway through their third cup of tea at Paul’s, a blanket wrapped around Aster’s shoulder as she curls between Paul and Ellie, a Wim Wenders film playing in the background. The doorbell ringing breaks them out of their cloud of comfort, Aster and Ellie looking at Paul in confusion. He shrugs. 

“We’re not expecting anyone.” He says, standing, and makes his way to the door. He opens it and a small flash of human busts under his arm, barrelling into the room. 

“Aster!” Aster stands just in time for her sister to surge into her, arms wrapping hard around her waist. 

“ _Flo.”_ Aster’s voice is thick with emotion as she returns the embrace, pressing kisses to her sister’s hair. “What are you doing here, _Munecita_?” 

“I heard you and papi fight, and I saw you get into the truck from the window. I made mami drive me.” Aster stiffens slightly, but she doesn’t let her sister go. She’s vaguely aware that in the background, Ellie and Paul have disappeared into the kitchen to give them some space. 

“Si. She’s in the car. She..wasn’t ready to come in. But we bought your bag, and packed you some things. Mami...she packed some money, too. She’s worried.” Aster nods, trying not to react too much in front of her little sister. She worries if her mother’s worried for her safety, or her soul. Still, the fact she was packed a bag and not left completely adrift is something, even if her mother isn’t ready to see her yet. Below her, Flo pulls back, looking up at her sister with sad eyes. 

“I heard what you said to dad. I had to google it, and what I saw..” She pauses, searching for words, and Aster’s heart prepares to break. Instead, her sister looks up at her with eyes that are years older than Aster remembers. A semester away has turned her sister from a child into a girl on the cusp of teenagedom, Aster realises. She wonders how much more she’ll grow before they next see each other. “I don’t understand it, hermana, but that’s okay. Not understanding someone isn’t a good enough reason to stop loving them. It’s like how we don’t understand anything Father Shanley says, but we still go and have tea with him and help him with the garden each week.” 

Aster lets out a wet laugh, nodding in understanding. “Yeah?” 

Her sister nods. “Yeah. You are you, and I know God understands that, even if I don’t. I’m sorry about mami and papi, though. Mom might come around, but dad..” She trails off, and Aster nods in understanding. 

“I know.” She says, softly, before cupping her sister’s head in her hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“I love you.” She whispers quietly, taking in the scent of her baby sister- she’ll always be Aster’s baby sister, even when they’re old- for what might be the last time in a long while. She knows she won’t be coming back to Squahamish anytime soon. Outside, the car horn beeps quickly. She and Flo stand for a moment longer before she releases her sister. 

“Take care of Father Shanley for me, okay? She asks through watery eyes, and her sister nods. They walk quietly to the door, where Paul is waiting. Aster’s bags are by his feet, and his hands are filled with books and printed pieces of paper. He looks nervous as he hands them to Flo. 

“These, uh, helped me a lot. To understand Aster and Ellie and God. They might help you, too.” He says, softly, and Flo looks up at him with wide eyes, nodding her thanks. “And you can come and ask questions or talk about it whenever you want. Mom and I have done a bunch of reading, so she could talk to your mom, too, if she ever wants.” 

He glances at the car idling outside, but Aster can’t bear to look and see her mother’s face. She doesn’t want to know how her mother looks at her now. Flo turns and gives her a final hug, and Aster turns and walks back inside before she can see her sister and mother disappear down the street. The door shuts behind her, and Paul comes to stand beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a kiss pressed to the side of her head. 

“You can always talk to me too, okay?” Ellie re-enters the room and Paul opens his other arm so she’ll fit into his embrace as well. “This one might be a hot-shot with most things, but I’m the _master_ of the relationship between God and gay, I swear. I’ve done more reading in the last six months than all of highschool.” 

Ellie snorts, and Aster bites back a smile, but she believes it. She rests her head against his chest. “Thank you.” Her hand snakes across his torso, reaching out for Ellie, who doesn’t hesitate to take her hand. Aster lets her eyes drift shut and allows herself to stand, safe in this moment. 


	14. Come fill me again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a single bed against the corner and on the bedside table, an old typewriter. Aster smiles as she approaches it, running her finger over the pale blue of its body. 
> 
> “Smith Corona.” She reads, a soft smile on her face. “Of course.”

They decide Aster will stay at Ellie’s for the last two days of their trip. They arrive just before dinner the night that Aster leaves her house; Aster quietly trailing behind Ellie as they come up the stairs and enter what must be the Chu’s living room. 

There’s a middle aged man walking out of the kitchen, a brief smile on his face as he greets his daughter. _They wear the same style of glasses_ , Aster realises with a rush of affection for the girl standing in front of her, as Ellie introduces Aster to her father. Aster steps forward and offers Mr. Chu her hand. 

“Dad, Aster’s going to stay with us until we drive back.” Ellie says, and Aster notices it’s not a question but a statement. Mr. Chu just looks between them, no doubt noting Aster’s red ringed eyes and cheeks, puffy from crying, and gives Ellie a nod. 

“This is fine. Aster, you are always welcome in our home.” He turns to walk back to the kitchen, where a delicious smell is wafting. Over his shoulder he calls to his daughter, 

“Ellie, your girlfriend is sad. Put on the kettle for some of your mother’s special tea, _Shì?_ ”

Ellie blanches, scrambling after her dad. “Bà! Tā bùshì wǒ de-wǒmen hái méiyǒu tǎolùnguò.” Aster wishes she knew what was being said but instead she waits, vaguely amused by the embarrassment lacing Ellie’s tone as her dad chuckles. 

“Hǎo ba, nà bùshì Paul suǒ shuō de. Paul bǐ nǐ gèng shàncháng yú àiqíng. Wúlùn rúhé, zhège nǚhái xūyào hē chá. Zǒu!” 

Ellie returns from the kitchen seconds later, blushing furiously. Aster just raises a curious eyebrow. 

“Paul’s been bonding with my father again. I swear, he’s the favourite child.” Ellie says, and reaches down to grab Aster’s bag. “Come on, I’ll show you my room.” 

Aster follows Ellie up a ladder and into a surprisingly sizeable loft. There’s a single bed against the corner and on the bedside table, an old typewriter. Aster smiles as she approaches it, running her finger over the pale blue of its body. 

“Smith Corona.” She reads, a soft smile on her face. “Of course.”

Behind her, Ellie waits by the doorway, allowing her to become acquainted with the space in her own time. The room is unsurprisingly _Ellie_ , and despite a few empty shelves- presumably things that went with her to college- Aster can see parts of the girl clearly throughout the room. 

“It was my mom’s.” Ellie says, softly. “I slept with it for like, a _year_ when she died. Eventually I discovered that my bedside table was just as comforting a spot. I couldn’t take it with me to college, though. Too heavy to heave across country by train.” 

Aster nods, but makes a note to herself to make sure Ellie packs it on their drive home. She wanders across the room, picking up a photo of a beautiful woman holding a young girl on the bookshelf. Toddler Ellie is clearly recognisable, even with baby fat still present on her cheeks. Aster wonders if Mr. Chu will show her more photos of the girl as a child if she asks nicely enough. Her eyes roam over the woman, looking for similarities with her daughter. They’re not hard to find- Ellie shares her smile, and there’s a hint of familiarity in her eyes, too. The depth of them, like she’s seeing directly into the person she’s looking at. 

“She was beautiful. Like you.” Aster says, simply, and she feels Ellie shift behind her at the compliment. She puts the photo back down and runs her fingers along Ellie’s expansive collection of books, pausing to read the titles of the ones with the most battered pages and creased spines. She’s surprised to see a clearly well-loved copy of Remains Of The Day on the shelf. 

“You didn’t take this? Were you just quoting it from memory when you helped me with my essay?” She teases, glancing over her shoulder. Ellie shrugs, slightly sheepishly. 

“Paul gave me his copy after his sixth attempt at reading it. It was less likely to fall apart on the journey, so.” Aster smiles, glad her gift ended up somewhere it was appreciated. Ellie takes a half step toward her, and Aster moves toward her, allowing the girl to pull her properly close. 

“How are you?” Ellie asks, quietly. Aster shrugs. 

“Tired, mostly. Hungry, too. Whatever your dad is making smells great. He seems nice.” She says, more appreciative than she can say at the unquestioning way the man had welcomed her into his home. Ellie nods. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty great. It used to be harder, just the two of us, but now I’m gone he’s actually getting out more; Paul makes him go to dinner and practise his english sometimes, which is great. He still likes it when I talk to him in Mandarin, though.” 

Aster hums in agreement.

“I like it too. It’s kind of hot, actually.” She says, smirking at Ellie’s surprised face. “What? Bilingual people are sexy. Reminds me how smart you are.” 

“Like you could forget. My brain is why you like me.” Ellie points out, and Aster nods in agreement, though her hands travel up and down Ellie’s back slowly. 

“Amongst other things.” She says, cheekily, and Ellie rolls her eyes, though her hand still comes up to cup Aster’s face. 

“Wǒ yě xǐhuān nǐ de dànǎo hé qítā dōngxī.” She says, smirking, and Aster has no idea what she’s said but it makes her swoon regardless. She closes the gap between them, kissing Ellie properly for the first time since last night. She loses herself in Ellie’s lips, mouth opening as Ellie’s tongue sweeps against her; and she’s just about to pull Ellie closer, _closer_ , when there’s a call from downstairs. 

“Ellie! Aster-not-girlfriend! Dinner!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's short. Much like me, as my friends constantly remind me. The chapter title is from Annie's Song, by John Denver (but better sung by Alexxis Lemire xoxoxoxox) 
> 
> I'd like to thank my friend google translate for its work on the translations. If they're butchered then I retract my thanks. 
> 
> "Dad! She's not my- we haven't discussed that yet."  
> "Well, that's not what Paul says. And Paul is much better at love than you. Regardless, the girl needs tea. Go!"
> 
> "I like your brain and your other things, too."


	15. our gentle sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie, as with all aspects of her life, is determined, passionate, and a quick study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the chapter that makes the rating go up ;)

The drive home is peaceful, and just what Aster needs after the emotional upheaval that was Squahamish. She and Ellie take turns to drive, Ellie becoming increasingly competent on the road, and they fill the hours with easy conversation or comfortable silence; the radio playing faintly in the background.

Still, though, Aster can’t shake the weight between them, the knowledge that in three days they’ll again across state lines, not to see each other for months. Whatever this is between them is too new and tentative and Aster is terrified about what will happen to them when they’re faced with the trials of everyday life between them. She’s sure Ellie feels it too- she catches the girl looking at her sometimes like she’s etching the lines of Aster’s face, committing them to memory like she’ll never see her again.

They don’t speak about it, though. They should, and Aster’s sure they will, but for now they let the road pass under them, mile by mile getting closer to their paths diverging once more.

* * *

When Aster emerges from the shower that evening, stepping into their room draped in a towel, she’s amused to see that Ellie still immediately drops what she’s doing and turns to study the wall.

“You’re allowed to look, you know.” She chuckles, crossing over to her bag to pull out the faded yellow T-shirt. She never returned it after wearing it on their first trip, and she fully intends to keep it from here on out. Ellie shrugs from her corner, still not turning. Aster smirks and dresses quickly, continuing. “If you want to. I’m decent, by the way.”

Ellie turns, visibly swallowing as she takes in Aster’s bare legs, disappearing beneath her shirt. Aster’s smirk grows.

When she’d worn the shirt in front of Ellie (she has yet to admit to the girl that she’d been wearing it most nights of the holiday, despite having plenty of alternative sleepwear options in her old room at her parent’s house), she’d put a bra on underneath in some semblance of self preservation, despite the discomfort of sleeping in one. The thin linen was too worn for Aster to feel totally comfortable so exposed in front of someone else.

Tonight, though, she’s forgone one, and she doesn’t miss the way Ellie’s eyes travel up her body to linger at her chest, taking in the shadow of slightly darker flesh, hardened and visible through the fabric from the cold and the intensity of Ellie’s gaze. She feels a thrill run down her spine as Ellie finally pulls her eyes away and looks at her.

“I want to,” Ellie starts, and her voice is gravelly and deep in a way Aster hasn’t heard it before. She pauses and clears her throat. “I just want to be respectful. I don’t want you to feel objectified.” She clarifies, and Aster wants to kiss her but she doesn’t, she stays where she is, watching as Ellie’s fists furl and unfurl like she’s fighting from reaching out to touch Aster.

“I already told you, I like the way you look at me.” Aster says softly. “I want you to look at me.”

She starts to move forward but then stops, wary of the way Ellie is standing; like she’s a deer trapped in headlights who might bolt at any second.

“Can I come closer?” She asks, and Ellie releases a breathy exhale, nodding as Aster walks slowly towards her. She stops just shy of Ellie, not touching her just yet. “I know we’re sharing a bed, and that we’ve kissed, but - there are no expectations, alright? I just want you to know that I’m sure of this. Of us. I want this. That doesn’t have to mean anything, though.”

Ellie takes Aster’s hands, and even that gentle contact sends goosebumps up her arms.

“And you don’t need to do anything to prove yourself to me. I know you’re sure, you don’t have to do anything to prove it.” Aster nods, suddenly relieved. She didn’t realise she’d needed to hear that until it was said. She leans forward to capture Ellie’s mouth in a kiss and even as Ellie’s hands move to grip her hips gently, there’s still a sense that Ellie’s holding herself back; that she’s not letting go like she wants to. She pulls back slightly, ready to fully retreat if Ellie needs her to, but the hands on her waist bunch at the fabric, keeping her from moving. Ellie shakes her head at Aster’s silent question.

“I want this too, I promise. It’s just…” she bites her lip and glances down. “Four years is a really long time. I’m- I’m scared that if this happens, I let this dream become a reality, then it will all get taken away. I’ll wake up and it will all be gone.”

“Why risk the good painting?” Aster asks, and Ellie gives a small nod.

“Something like that.” There’s more, Aster can tell. Ellie’s not quite meeting her eyes and there’s a flush to her cheeks that seems more rooted in embarrassment than arousal. Aster reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Ellie’s ear.

“What is it?” She asks, and Ellie glances at her sheepishly. “And don’t tell me it’s stupid.”

The corner of Ellie’s mouth lifts in the shadow of a smile.

“I’ve never done anything like this before. And you’re so beautiful, and you’re so sure of what you’re doing, and I have no idea and I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint you.” Aster barks a laugh of surprise.

“That’s what’s worrying you? Oh, Ellie, you have no idea.” She leans forward to whisper conspiratorially in Ellie’s ear. “I don’t know what I’m doing, either. I’m terrified of disappointing you.”

Ellie splutters. “But you’re so...so…” she gestures up and down at Aster. “You’re so good at it. You’re so confident.”

Aster laughs fondly, thumb stroking over Ellie’s cheek. “Four years is a lot of hype to live up to. And I’ve never done anything like this before, either. But I know that I like how you look at me, and when you kiss me, and touch me, and I know I want more of that. I’m just...doing what feels good.” She explains, and Ellie nods.

“Doing what feels good…” She’s sounding more sure of herself, now, and Aster watches with bated breath as Ellie’s hand lifts from her hip to trail along her collarbone, fingertips catching on the collar of Aster’s shirt as they trace lightly down her sternum. Her hand comes to a stop, splayed just under Aster’s chest, and Aster can’t help the shiver of anticipation and nerves that pass over her. Ellie catches it.

“You’ve never…? Not even with Trig?” She asks, watching Aster’s chest rise and fall shallowly as her other hand moves upwards, so her hands are spread out against Aster’s ribcage, thumbs just shy of the curve of her breast. Aster desperately wants them to move up but finds herself unable to move or do anything other than wait, the air thick with tension. She frowns slightly at the mention of her exes’ name is such a sacred bubble as this.

“No. There were...moments..but never much more than kissing. Everything over clothes. We were waiting.” She says, and Ellie looks up at Aster with a frown, pulling away slightly.

“We can wait now, too. Not that I’m saying we’re going to get married or anything! But like I said, you don’t have to prove anything. We won’t do anything you don’t want.” Ellie is staring at her so earnestly, hands falling awkwardly to her sides, and Aster can’t help the way her heart feels like it’s thumping out of her chest with adoration for the girl in front of her. They might only have three days left together but Aster’s determined not to waste them.

She takes Ellie’s hands and, keeping her gaze locked on Ellie’s, slowly lifts them under her shirt, placing them gently where they’d been sitting earlier but skin to skin. Ellie’s breath hitches as her hands press gently against Aster’s rib cage for a moment, and then they’re moving, gently, exploring the warm skin of Aster’s sides, her stomach, always sweeping just shy of the curve of her breast or the dip of her hip.

“Didn’t we agree there’s been enough waiting?” She asks, bringing her mouth close to Ellie’s. “It’s never felt like the right time before. It does now. I want this, Ellie. I want you.”

And then they’re kissing, Aster crushing their lips together as her hands tangle in Ellie’s hair. Ellie responds with just as much enthusiasm as her hands sweep around to Aster’s bare back, fingers digging slightly into the flesh. Aster’s mouth slants open and her tongue flicks out against Ellie’s for just a second before Ellie’s mouth moves, hot and wet on Aster’s skin as it charts a course from mouth to jaw to collarbone.

Her hands fly to the hem of Ellie’s sweatshirt and she pushes it up, tugging at it in a plea for its removal. Unlike the last time she’d tried to remove a shirt of Ellie’s there is very little argument this time. Ellie steps back, separating them just enough for her shirt to be pulled over her head, glasses coming with it.

“Oh no.” Ellie whines, instantly pulling back and leaning towards her shirt, away from Aster. Aster impatiently tries to stop her, hands looping into the front of Ellie’s pants to try and keep her close.

“Leave them,” she murmurs against the skin of Ellie’s neck, nipping lightly and enjoying the resulting groan from the girl. Ellie stops leaning and straightens back up, kissing Aster long and hard.

“I want to be able to see you.” Ellie explains. “I’ve dreamt of this for forever, I’m not doing it in low definition.” Aster sighs dramatically but accepts, stepping back and reaching to pick up the glasses for Ellie. She hands them over with a kiss, and as Ellie slides them back on her face Aster lets her hands trace over goosebumped collarbones, slowing as she reaches the strap of Ellie’s bra.

“Can I…?” She asks, and Ellie’s nodding nervously. Aster holds her breath as she slides the straps slowly down Ellie’s shoulders, watching in awe as Ellie quietly shrugs them off her arms and reaches around herself to unhook the clasp. Immediately, Ellie’s arms move to wrap protectively over her newly exposed chest but Aster reaches out to stop them, pulling Ellie’s arms towards herself instead. She guides Ellie’s hands to the bottom of her shirt, eyes fluttering closed as the material is dragged over her head.

When she opens them they’re standing bare from the chest up, slowly taking each other in. What she can see of Ellie is beautiful, and her fingers twitch to reach out and feel. So she does. She lets her fingers trail down from collarbone to the curve of Ellie’s breasts, only pausing for a second before she’s moving to cup them in her hands.

It’s the feel of Ellie’s nipples, pebbled beneath her thumb, that kick starts them back into action. Ellie’s mouth crushes against her own and the pianist’s hands are suddenly everywhere, fingers nimbly exploring Aster’s skin. Aster’s thumbs stroke over Ellie’s nipples but it’s when she tentatively squeezes her right breast that Ellie gives out a whimper, mouth opening as they pull back for air.

Aster’s hands leave Ellie’s chest- she relishes the sound of loss Ellie makes as she does so- and grabs Ellie’s hands, she taking one step back, then another, backing them up until she’s hitting the edge of the bed. She sits, starting to pull Ellie down over her before she changes her mind.

Ellie stills, one knee on the bed, as Aster pushes against her to stop and she’s about to ask if this is okay, if they’re going too fast, but Aster just pulls her head down for a kiss, hands reaching for the button of Ellie’s jeans.

Ellie takes her knee off the bed and shimmies herself out of them, Aster watching with raw appreciation as toned legs appear. Bicycling up hills for years came with serious perks, it seems.

“Now we’re even.” Aster states, referring to their now only underwear clad forms, and then she’s reaching out to grab Ellie again and pulling her down, down, down.

Aster had always thought her first time would be quick, fumbling, and probably uncomfortable. And there were brief moments of discomfort, of course- her knee somehow colliding with Ellie’s stomach, Ellie’s glasses digging uncomfortably to her pelvis, a bite too hard or a finger slipping off the right angle as they get to know each other’s bodies- but Aster can’t help and find the whole thing entirely perfect.

Even those few moments just sent the pair into giggles before a press of lips or fingers or a tongue would set them back on the right track of gasps and moans.

Kate had warned her that her first time might be disappointing, that she might not end up completely satisfied.

Kate was wrong.

Ellie, as with all aspects of her life, is determined, passionate, and a quick study. She maps a path over Aster’s body with her fingers and then her mouth, tentatively trying something and then proceeding or switching tracks depending on what reaction she pulls from Aster. Aster can almost see the pages being filled in her mind, the notes she’s making in the chapter marked aster- one Aster hopes is a very long, detailed chapter.

They get to know each other’s bodies for hours; pausing briefly now and then to catch their breath or lie in each other's arms, content in the moment. But as though a dam has broken, they’re not able to keep away from each other for long. A kiss will deepen, a hand will wander- even a stare will go on a beat too long and then they’re off again and Aster can’t help but find herself extremely satisfied indeed.

Eventually, in the small hours of the morning, it’s clear they’ll need some rest. They’ve got a long drive tomorrow, and Aster can already feel an ache settling into her muscles after hours of movement.

“So, did I live up to the hype?” She murmurs into the darkness, and Ellie snorts quietly against her chest.

“Yeah, no, I’d say you well and truly smashed high-school-me’s wildest dreams.” She replies, tilting her head up to seek Aster’s mouth in the darkness. They kiss languidly for a few minutes, before Ellie’s tongue flicks out against her lips and Aster pulls back with a groan.

“I can’t. You’ll break me. We have to reserve some energy for driving, you know. We’ve got to make it across another three states before school starts back.” She reminds Ellie, who gives a quiet ‘hmph’ against her lips but pulls away, setting back into Aster’s arms.

“We need to talk about it. The going back to college thing, I mean.” Ellie says, softly, and Aster sighs. She hates it when Ellie’s reasonable. 

“Yeah. I know. But right now let’s just sleep. We can deal with life in the morning.” Ellie nods against her chest, a quick kiss is pressed against her sternum, and then they are drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Take Me To Church by Hozier, that brilliant little man


	16. We've come too far to leave it all behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No human masterpiece has ever been created without great labor."
> 
> \- Andre Gide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end. 
> 
> (And a beginning.)

They leave an hour later than planned. 

And it’s not Aster’s fault, not _really_ . Who could blame her, when she woke up with her face pressed against Ellie’s chest? What was she meant to do, _not_ take one of Ellie’s nipples into her mouth and lick and suck and bite until Ellie was a writhing mess beneath her? No, Aster couldn’t be blamed for what would be any reasonable person’s reaction if faced with the same. 

Still, it does mean they arrive at their lunch-stop later than anticipated, which means Ellie’s _hangry._ By the time they’re seated at the diner, Ellie is glowering at most people in the surrounding seats as though their very presence has offended her. Aster tries not to laugh lest the glower is turned onto her. 

“Hey, what did these innocent people ever do to you, huh? Stop glaring.” She reaches out and pokes Ellie’s leg with her foot. Ellie’s glower _does_ turn to her, but thankfully it lessens in power. 

“I’m hungry.” She states, as if Aster isn’t aware. Ellie had given her a long-winded explanation of how eating times were for eating, and going outside of those hours was anarchy. Aster had responded by calling Paul on loudspeaker and letting him take on the debate for her; so that she could spend her time much more practically by staring at Ellie as the girl drove, uninterrupted in her appreciation. 

They’d _almost_ made it into the diner even later than expected too, largely in part to Ellie pouncing on Aster as soon as she’d pulled into the shady rear of the carpark. 

“You can’t look at me like that and _not_ expect me to kiss you,” She’d panted against Aster’s mouth, hand slipping down her front to the clasp of her jeans; but they’d been interrupted by the loud gurgle of Ellie’s stomach. Aster had insisted they’d come inside to eat, first- in fact, part of Ellie’s glower may be to do with the interruption, as well as her hunger. 

“Hey, you can finish feeling me up after lunch, okay? It’s not the fault of these nice people that your stomach didn’t let you finish what you started.” She teases over the table, lowering her voice so the booth behind her isn’t too scandalised. Ellie blushes and rolls her eyes, fighting back a smirk. 

“It’s not _my_ fault we’re behind schedule. If we had left when planned I would have had plenty of time before I got hungry. You’ve thrown my body clock out of whack.” Ellie retorts, and Aster laughs. 

“You weren’t doing much complaining at the time.” She points out, and Ellie concedes the point with a roll of her eyes and a squeeze of the hand Aster’s places on the table.

When the waitress approaches, notebook out to take their order, Aster’s natural instinct is to jerk her hand away. By the feel of Ellie’s tensing against her, she suspects it might be the other girl’s too. Instead, she turns her palm around and entwines their fingers. Ellie catches her eye and gives her a slightly nervous smile but then the waitress is there, asking in a monotonal voice what they’d like. Either she doesn’t notice the hands or doesn’t care, taking their orders with a huff of indifference before heading back to the kitchen. Aster lets out the breath she’d been holding but doesn’t let go of Ellie’s hand, and Ellie doesn’t make any moves to pull away, either.

They sit in a comfortable silence as they wait. Aster releases Ellie long enough to pull out her notepad and pencil, replacing her hand and beginning to sketch the landscape outside with the other. Ellie pulls a book out of one of her jacket’s oversized pockets, propping it against the napkin dispenser. She’s almost finished it, though, and when she turns the last page she sighs, deciding instead to take part in some people watching. 

Aster glances up at her and smiles quietly to herself. Ellie’s lost in thought, staring off at something just behind Aster with a slight furrow of her brow.

“What are you looking at?” She asks, softly, and Ellie’s eyes snap back to her. She tilts her head over Aster’s shoulder, and Aster glances back to see a couple a few tables away, eating their lunch together. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about them. Aster turns back to Ellie, brow quirked. 

“They’re just so _lost_ on each other. They keep reaching for each other without realising, just to touch, and now and then one will just look up at the other to smile. They barely noticed when their food arrived, they were just staring at each other. And they’re not even talking, just…enjoying each other’s company.” Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “They’re just super into each other. It’s gross. Paul would love it.” 

Aster snickers, and Ellie looks at her in surprise. “What?” 

Aster looks down pointedly at their hands resting on the table and the milkshakes that had arrived at some point of Ellie speaking, neither girl noticing their arrival. She looks back up, shrugging at Ellie. “I don’t think we’re gross. Super into each other, however…” 

Ellie blinks at her, mouth tilting up at the sides. 

“What?” Aster laughs, and Ellie’s face breaks into a gentle smile. 

“You’re super into me. It’s just...nice to hear.” 

“God, Ellie, I’m so gone on you it’s insane.” Aster says, tilting her head to the side with a fond smile. “Is it not clear? Should I tell you that more often?” 

Ellie nods enthusiastically. “I mean, it’s somewhat implied in your actions, but if you _wish_ to shower me with verbal affirmation then yes, I accept.” 

“And _that’s_ not gross?” Aste clarifies teasingly.. Ellie shakes her head. 

“No, only other people are gross. We’re awesome.” She explains, but there’s a slight sadness to her tone. Aster suspects she knows why.

“But are we going to stay a _we?”_ She asks, both to herself and Ellie. It’s as good an opening as any. They needed to talk about it at some stage, after all. Ellie grimaces, pushing her glasses back against her nose. 

“Well, we did need to talk about it eventually.” She admits. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Aster nods. Neither does she. She knows what she _wants_ , of course, but what she wants and what’s realistic are very different things. And she’s scared that Ellie knows that too. Ellie gives her hand a soft squeeze, pulling it back to move their things to the side as their food arrives. Once the waitress walks away, she starts to talk. 

“Practically, I...know what we should do. Being together just...doesn’t make sense. Most couples don’t make it the first year of college. When you add long distance, the fact that both of us are _just_ becoming comfortable admitting our sexuality- those are a lot of pretty big factors playing against us. Plus you’ve just come out of a long term relationship, it’s your first chance to be free, I don’t want to pin you down when there’s a whole world out there to explore…” Ellie trails off sadly. Aster shakes her head violently. 

“I don’t want a whole world. I just want you.” She says, softly, and Ellie gives her a smile so sad it breaks her heart.

“Me too, Aster. But we won’t see each other for months; second semester will be busy for both of us, we’ll barely have time to video chat or anything like that- we’ll just end up pining for each other from afar.” 

“We’ll be pining regardless.” Aster points out. Ellie shrugs in acceptance. 

“Yeah. But statistically…. the odds aren’t in our favour. Besides, Aster, this is your chance to paint that great painting. You don’t need me there to do that.” Ellie can’t look at her, Aster realises. Instead she’s staring resolutely at the plate of fries between them. 

“It’s not about need, Ellie. I _want_ you there. And also? Fuck the statistics. I never liked math anyway.” Aster says, voice wavering slightly. Ellie’s acting like she’s already made her decision, regardless of what Aster says. Aster’s determined to fight it. 

“Eschewing raw data? Bold.” The other girl states, and Aster gives a bitter snort.

“Yeah, well, you inspire it in me.” Aster responds and Ellie’s eyes flick up to meet hers, before sliding back down. 

“Giving up in the face of bad odds? Ellie...is that really the boldest stroke _you_ can make?” She challenges, and Ellie’s head lifts, gaze fully locked on hers. “You don’t get it, do you? Everything else before now was just us preparing the easel. _This_ is our chance at a great painting, Ellie Chu.”

She’s slightly frantic now, trying to get her point across to Ellie. Trying to make her see what Aster so clearly can. “I have no doubt that we can make bold strokes separately, create something beautiful. But together? It might just be a masterpiece at work.” 

She finishes speaking and waits, silence heavy between them as Ellie takes in what she’s saying. Finally, she speaks. 

“No human masterpiece has ever been created without great labor.” She quotes, softly, and then a shy smile breaks out across her face. Aster is scared to match it, but then Ellie’s hand is reaching back across the table. “You’re right. We haven’t come this far to give up now.” 

She looks around the diner, considering something. Then she stands, eyes twinkling, and loudly proclaims:

“Aster Flores. I’ve been head over heels for you for four years, and a little bit of distance isn’t going to take that away. Will you paint a masterpiece with me?” She asks, loudly, and Aster’s heart leaps. The last time someone had stood in a diner and pronounced their feelings for her she’d also been rendered speechless; albeit for very different reasons. Instead of feeling shocked and embarrassed Aster’s just filled with joy and freedom and _love._ Instead of replying she just stands and pulls Ellie in for a long, deep kiss. 

They stand like that for a long while, kissing in the middle of the diner, before the waitress comes up and breaks them out of their reverie. 

“I’m sure this is….a very happy moment for you both, girls, but it’s also a public space. You gotta stop making out in front of the other patrons.” Aster pulls back with a blush, her lips kiss-swollen and a small dent on her nose from Ellie’s glasses. She and Ellie share a giggle, sliding back into their booth and finally starting their meal, fingers firmly entwines across the table. 

Ellie smiles contentedly at her. 

“Gross.” She sighs, happily.

Aster beams, sits back, and admires the results of her first great painting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for playing, folks. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm not 100% content so I'll be coming back and tweaking but drop in with your comments and criticism because i'm attention starved. I'm also halfway through a small epilogue because I can't leave Aster Flores alone 
> 
> The chapter song is from If You Leave Me Now by Chicago, because it's the best part. 
> 
> x


	17. Epilogue

They spend their last night of the holidays together, cramped in Ellie’s single bed at Grinnell. The next morning, Ellie walks Aster slowly to her car, the weight between them heavy with emotions that words can’t reach. 

A kiss is shared on a cool morning, lips pressed together until the need for air arises. Ellie gives her a sad, loving smile and turns to leave. Aster takes a deep breath. 

“Hey, heathen!” She calls, and Ellie turns, eyes twinkling in the morning light. “I love you.” 

Always one to get the last word, Ellie closes the gap between them, pulling Aster into a final kiss similar to the first they’d shared all those months ago. Although this is not a goodbye; it’s just a see you later. 

“I’ll see you in a couple months.” She whispers, and Aster gives a teary laugh before she climbs into her car and drives away. 

Three days later, Aster Flores receives a letter. The best she’s ever gotten. It’s short, but the message is clear without any need for extraneous language: 

_Dear Aster Flores,_

_I love you too._


End file.
